Breaking Through
by Richard Lawson
Summary: After almost two years of marriage, Giselle and Robert face a new problem. And in trying to solve that problem they will each face unexpected challenges. Final chapter now up.
1. Chapter 1

The young woman sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk clutched her sketchbook nervously. "Uh, three years at Parsons."

Robert glanced down at the resume in front of him. "Parsons School of Design. Where's that, Greenwich Village?"

"Um, yeah. I lived nearby."

"Oh? Are you from New York?" Robert was pretty sure she wasn't.

"Uh, no, I grew up in Lenexa, Kansas."

A Kansas girl. Robert smiled to himself. "So when did you graduate?"

"I, uh, graduate next month. All my coursework is done."

"I see. And what made you decide to apply to Andalasia Fashions?"

"Well..." The woman hesitated, then flipped open her sketchbook. "I've always liked children's fashion. You can see here the designs I came up-"

"Save that for later." Despite having dated a fashion designer for five years and later marrying another, Robert had zero idea what did or did not make up a good fashion sketch. "I'm more interested in the technical details of your background. Did you specialize in children's fashion at Parsons?"

"Yes. Uh, Parsons has a fashion show, y'know, for graduating seniors." She looked at him for confirmation.

Robert hadn't actually known that, but he nodded encouragement.

Emboldened, she continued. "I, uh, have a DVD I made of the event. My models were all pre-teens." She slipped a slim disk from her sketchbook. "If you want to see?"

Again, Robert would have no idea what to look for, but liked the fact that she'd gone through the effort. "Put it on the desk."

As she did so, a movement caught Robert's eye. All of the offices in the studio were open affairs, with no walls to speak of, and Robert's desk faced the elevators. Out of one stepped a heavyset man in a smart blue business suit. His eyes met Robert's and he smiled and nodded. Robert smiled back and held up five fingers. The heavyset man nodded his understanding and sat on a chair near the elevators.

"Well..." Robert glanced down at the resume. "Margaret. Is it Margaret? Maggie?"

"Peggy."

"Well, Peggy, you seem to have the needed background, although I wish there had been some more work experience. But I have a more important question to ask you. Do you play a musical instrument?"

The woman's eyes widened slightly. "A... a musical instrument?"

"You know. Guitar, violin, that sort of thing."

She blushed slightly. "No."

"Can you sing?"

"Oh no, not a note, I'm terrible." The woman was looking increasingly apprehensive. "Why?"

Robert smiled. "You'll find out."

As if on cue, another woman appeared by the desk. She was wearing a simple tan skirt and blouse along with a wide smile, and they all looked beautiful on her. "Robert, who is this?"

Robert stood up. "Giselle, I'd like to introduce you to Peggy."

"Peggy!" Giselle reached out and shook the rising woman's hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to Andalasia Fashions."

"Uh, thank you." The woman held our her sketchbook. "Are you the one to show these to?"

Giselle took the sketchbook and quickly flipped through it. "Oh, these are lovely. You clearly love children."

"Yes!" Peggy blinked, as if surprised by the forcefulness of her response. "I've always loved dressing up my cousins. Being a children's fashion designer is what I've always wanted to do."

Giselle grinned. "You love it?"

Peggy nodded. "I adore it."

"Adoration. That's what it's all about." Giselle smiled widely, then began singing. "A child is someone to adore."

Peggy's mouth dropped open slightly. "Yeah, I, I guess you could put it like that."

Robert stepped back, no longer needed. The whole studio, he noted, had come to a standstill, looking at Giselle. One young man was picking up a guitar, while a nearby woman was putting a flute together. They knew what was coming next.

Giselle, seemingly oblivious to all this, continued singing. "A child's smile is what you work hard for!"

A trill of the flute followed. Peggy's mouth was now fully hanging open. Giselle put the sketchbook down on the desk, grabbed Peggy's hand, and drew her into the center of the studio. The song got underway in earnest, with everyone in the studio joining in.

Almost everyone. Robert walked over to the elevator lobby, where the large man sat watching the event with a great deal of amusement.

Robert put out his hand. "It's good to see you, Nathaniel."

"And you, m'lord." Nathaniel rose and shook Robert's hand forcefully. "Does this happen often?"

"The singing? Quite frequently." Robert looked over to see Giselle twirling in place in front of Peggy while two pigeons draped a measuring tape that had somehow found its way into the lyrics over Giselle's shoulders.

"Do... do all your applicants have to go through this?"

"Not all." Robert escorted Nathaniel back to his desk. "I make certain they have the necessary background, then hand them off to Giselle. Some of them she'll dismiss right away. With some others it takes a while for a song to emerge. Peggy's started right away, so that's encouraging for her."

"Do they all... participate?" Nathaniel sat in the chair Peggy had previously occupied, watching as Peggy allowed a bolt of red cloth to be put in her hands.

"Most of them. Some applicants don't involve themselves at all, and we've even had a couple leave before the song was done."

Nathaniel nodded. "But those who do become part of the song also become a part of the company?"

Robert chuckled. "It's not exactly standard hiring practice, I acknowledge. But it's been highly effective so far."

"I see." Nathaniel looked back over at Robert. "Now I know the secret of your company's success."

"Well, we're not nearly as successful as you've become." Robert gestured at a copy of the Times he'd been reading. "I understand they want you to do a cable show."

"My agent has had some discussions about it, nothing more. I'm not certain I'd welcome the... scrutiny such a position would draw."

Robert understood. Nathaniel had no history in New York beyond a year or so ago. While Robert had helped Nathaniel invent a plausible identity, any investigative reporter would uncover a slew of unanswerable questions.

Pushing aside Peggy's resume, Robert clasped his hands on the desk. "Anyway, thanks for coming Nathaniel."

"My pleasure." Nathaniel inclined his head. "May I ask what it is you need, m'lord?"

"Well, for starters, please call me Robert."

Nathaniel considered this for a moment. "As you wish, m'lord."

Snorting softly, Robert continued. "I was hoping you could help Giselle and I with a delicate situation."

"I am at your service. How may I be of assistance?"

"Well..." Robert hesitated. "Giselle is having tremendous difficulty becoming pregnant."

Nathaniel reddened. "Is that so?" he mumbled weakly.

Robert chuckled. "Well, and here I thought they'd purged the Andalasian from your soul."

"M'lord?"

"You and my wife share one Andalasian trait: you're both incredibly prudish about discussing sex in any context."

"Yes, well..." Nathaniel's blush deepened. "It's not something one discusses in polite company."

"You bring the subject up in your book."

"That was in the context of giving advice - how to keep desire from overwhemling rational analysis."

"Well then." Robert nodded firmly. "That's what I'm asking for. Rational advice."

Robert waited. After a few moments, Nathaniel's blush faded away. Nathaniel cleared his throat, then tenatively spoke. "I'm... not certain my advice is germaine. Might one seek out a doctor?"

"One might." Robert sighed. "We have. I'll spare you the details on how long it took me to convince Giselle to see a gynecologist. As far as she can tell, Giselle is perfectly capable of bearing children. And, as Morgan demonstrates, I have no problems in that area."

"I... I am glad to hear it." Nathaniel, Robert noted, was growing more comfortable. His ability to quickly adapt had always been one of his major strengths. "Might one then counsel patience? I understand that, upon occasion, these things can take time to accomplish."

"It's been almost two years." Robert resisted the temptation to recall the week-long whirlwind where he'd started by planning to propose to one woman and ended by marrying another. It was both pleasant and painful to recall, and right now he wanted to focus his mind. "There are still medical procedures we can try, but before we do, I wanted to talk to you about another explanation: that it's because Giselle is from another world."

Nathaniel frowned and his gaze turned inward. Robert sat back to give him space. He looked out into the studio, where Peggy was standing on a table in the center of the room, belting out some lyrics, her hands held high over head. She finished the song, and the room exploded into applause. Peggy looked around, a stunned smile on her face. Giselle help her step down and hugged her, and even over the applause Robert could hear, "Welcome to Andalasia Fashions!"

Smiling slightly, Robert turned his attention back to Nathaniel. He was still thinking hard, and in a moment shook his head. "I do not know the answer, m'lord. I never had Narissa's talent for magic, and she never tried to educate me on the subject. I don't know the nature of the process that allowed the four of us to enter your world, or how that magic... changed us."

Robert grimaced. He'd been expecting as much, but he'd still held a sliver of hope. "So there's nothing you can think of that might help?"

"Well..." Nathaniel hesitated. "Did... did your Nancy ever express a desire for children?"

Robert surpressed a wince; the memory of what he'd done to Nancy still hurt, even after all this time. "Um... well, yes. We never discussed it in detail, but she did talk about wanting to give Morgan a brother or sister one day."

"Then, might one surmise that if she married Prince Edward, that she too might be trying to get pregnant?"

Robert blinked. He'd never even thought of that. "Yes, I suppose she might."

"And one might also surmise that Nancy would not harbor m'lady Giselle's... reluctance to address such matters directly. Nancy would also have resources available to her that are not available in New York."

"Yes." Robert sat up a little straighter. "Then... then she might already know the answer to our problem."

"Indeed, sir."

"Would... would whatever solution she'd found work here?"

Nathaniel snorted. "Did you just not witness the spell m'lady cast upon the workers here? Surely no one could doubt that the magic of Andalasia is still strong and potent even in New York."

"Well... point to you." Not to mention, Robert had actually witnessed Narissa transform herself into some kind of creature. That was another memory he didn't spend a lot of time dwelling on. "So, then... how do we contact her?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "That, m'lord, I cannot fathom. As I said, I know nothing of how to use magic. But you know someone who does."

Robert looked over to where Giselle was showing Peggy a child's dress that was currently being measured by a rat and a pigeon. "Perhaps I do. She doesn't think of it as magic, though."

"Surely whatever m'lady does is as effective as magic, is it not? And I know communication between my world and yours is possible; Narissa spoke often to me before she came over herself."

"That's good to know." Robert spoke slowly. "But Nancy may not want to talk to me. I tried to call her once. The phone actually rang a couple of times, but she didn't answer. Every time after that it went directly to voice mail before her service was cancelled for non-payment. So she may not be in the mood for a phone call or a message via magic mirror."

"That is true." Nathaniel rose to his feet. "Then I can only think of one solution."

"Oh?" He stood up as well. "And that is?"

Nathaniel spoke in a forceful voice. "Robert, you must travel to Andalasia yourself." With that, he turned and walked back to the lobby, his dramatic exit spoiled only by the fact that he had to wait a good two or three minutes for an elevator to arrive.

Robert waited until the elevator doors closed. Then he sat heavily in his chair and began to think.

~*~

(end part 1)


	2. Chapter 2

Giselle found herself humming as she studied the sleeves on the dress the mannequin was wearing. They were either too short or too long, she wasn't sure which.

Perhaps Peggy would know; Giselle looked around to see Peggy sitting at a table with two other designers of the studio, having an earnest discussion. Giselle had often seen these conversations take place - older employees letting newcomers know the realities of working at Andalasia Fashions. Giselle grinned; she remembered Robert's disbelieving running commentary when she had first sung for him in Central Park. People in New York evidently weren't used to that sort of thing.

With a sigh she glanced down at her watch. Almost three. It was her turn to pick up Morgan from school. Twitching her nose, she decided to think about the dress overnight and see if inspiration arose. It often did.

Just as she was turning to grab her jacket, Robert came up alongside her. Her heart skipped a beat as it always seemed to do in his presence, and she smiled widely. "I'm just on my way out. What would you like for dinner?"

"Actually, I thought I'd come with you." Robert held out her jacket.

"Oh." Without another word Giselle put it on and walked with Robert towards the elevators. She knew enough of him to recognize the signs of Robert wanting to talk about something serious. A vague foreboding settled over Giselle, dampening a bit the cheerful mood she'd had when welcoming Peggy.

Silently they walked out into the cool early spring afternoon. Robert had once commented how fortunate it was that the studio, Morgan's school, and the apartment were so close together. Giselle did indeed feel lucky; she'd made a few journeys into different parts of the city and had always been awed and amazed by what the people in this world had built with stone and metal. And it seemed to go on forever. Robert had talked about visiting other far-away lands with exotic names like "Europe" and "California", and evidently there were relatives in "Duluth". But for now Giselle was happy with the world centered around 117th and Broadway.

Robert waited until they were well away from the studio before he began. "So I talked with Nathaniel today."

"Nathaniel was here?" Giselle felt a flash of guilt. "I didn't even say hello."

"You were busy with Peggy. He understood." Robert hesitated a second. "I talked to him about our pregnancy issue."

"Oh Robert." Giselle felt heat rising to her face and turned her head slightly away. "You shouldn't embarrass him so."

"I... I didn't mean to do it. But he's a smart guy, maybe the smartest guy I know. And he knows more about our... situation than anyone else in New York."

Slowly, Giselle nodded and looked back at Robert. "I understand why you asked. But this is a private matter between us."

"I think we can count on Nathaniel's discretion." Robert was looking at her curiously. "Don't you want to know what he said?"

Giselle lowered her eyes for a moment but couldn't think of a good reason not to find out. She nodded once.

Nodding himself, Robert spoke softly. "He thinks I should go to Andalasia."

"Andalasia!" Giselle came to a stop, starting at Robert. "But whatever for?"

"He doesn't know what might be preventing you from getting pregnant, but he thinks there are people there who might have more insight."

Giselle paused to think that over. "Prince Edward. And, and Nancy."

"Nancy mostly, but yeah."

"Don't discount Edward. He knows a lot of people in other kingdoms, too. They might be able to help." Giselle continued walking down the street, perhaps just a bit more slowly. "How would you get there?"

"Well..." Again Robert hesitated a second. "I thought perhaps you could help."

"Oh don't be silly. I don't know how to do magic."

"I think Peggy would disagree."

"That's not magic. That's singing."

"Peggy told me herself she couldn't sing. Where did she suddenly get the ability? Not to mention, how'd she know the lyrics?"

"She knew how to sing; it was in her all the time."

"Perhaps. But you brought it out of her."

"That's not magic." Giselle lifted up her wrist and pointed to her watch. "This! This is magic. The elevators are magic, the lights are magic, the shower is magic, everything in this world is magic. All I know how to do is sing and make dresses."

"It's more than that, Giselle, and you know it."

"I do not! Don't tell me what I know."

He grinned. "And there I've done it again."

Giselle couldn't help smiling. It was a running joke between them that the only person in the world that could make her angry was Robert. He'd always been the one to inspire her passions both good and bad.

By way of apology she reached out and grasped his hand. They walked in silence for a bit before coming to a street corner. There, Robert brought them to a halt. "Anyway, I called Sam and asked her to pick up Morgan today and babysit for a few hours. I thought maybe we could try seeing if you could get me to Andalasia."

Giselle fought a sudden, irrational irritation and managed a simple, "Why now? Why is it so important we do this right away?"

"I just thought the timing now was good. You have your spring show next month and the studio's going to start getting busy very soon. I don't have any court cases pending for a while, so now is the perfect time."

"You... you want to be the one that goes?"

"Well, one of us should stay with Morgan. And it seems like you've never been comfortable talking about... our problem. I thought maybe it would be better for me to be making the inquiries." Robert reached into his jacket, pulled out a small square device. "Besides, I'll have my phone with me, I can call you any time."

"Oh." Giselle mulled that over. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Just an hour or two. Long enough to find Nancy and ask her a couple of questions. Assuming, of course, I can get there."

Giselle shook her head. "You don't need to go. This isn't necessary, it will happen when it happens."

"Giselle... I know. I watch as you look at other babies. I see the expression on your face. I know how important it is to you. It's important to me, too."

Unexpectedly Giselle's eyes began watering. "I know. Believe me, I know. I wish... oh Robert, you can't force something to happen. I know that's as true here as it is in Andalasia."

"But if nothing you're doing works, you ask for help. That's also true in both our worlds."

Giselle drew a deep breath. "All right, dear. If it means that much to you, I'll try."

Robert smiled. "Thank you."

He led her to a subway stop and they took a short journey. Giselle still had unpleasant memories of her first subway ride and held tightly on to Robert's hand. She struck up a conversation with a teenaged boy standing next to her in the crowded subway car. A little to his evident chagrin, they uncovered a shared fascination with horses and chatted amiably about it. The boy seemed as disappointed as she was when the subway came to a halt and they separated. It was always good to meet new people, and there were hundreds of them in New York.

They stepped out into light and noise. This part of New York had always bedazzled Giselle and she found herself blinking at the sights. She allowed Robert to lead her down the street as she fought off feelings of dizziness and dread.

Robert came to a stop and released her hand. "Here we are. Fortunately, I came prepared." He pulled a kind of metal hook from his pocket. Giselle looked at it in puzzlement. Robert crouched down, and only then did Giselle realize where they were. In the middle of a crosswalk in Times Square. Standing over a manhole.

Slowly Giselle crouched down next to him as Robert, with no small effort, got the manhole cover off and pushed to once side. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the smell. She didn't remember that.

Robert looked at her. "Is this the right one?"

"I, I think so." She'd often described her first steps in New York to Morgan and Robert, and it was Morgan who had first decided that Giselle had been describing Times Square. "I don't know how it works, though."

Robert nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe you can... sing a way through?"

"Maybe," Giselle said uncertainly. No music was immediately forthcoming. She looked around for inspiration. The pedestrians who had been crossing had barely spared them a glance. Now the light had changed, and the taxis and trucks that rolled slowly past them were honking in annoyance. Not exactly the muses she was looking for.

Robert shook his head in irritation. "I should have brought some safety cones. This was all so last-minute. Thank goodness it's rush hour; no one will be moving more than five miles an hour for a while. Anything?"

"I told you, there are some things you can't force." Giselle clamped her mouth shut before she could say any other mean things. After a brief struggle for control, she said mildly, "Morgan and I watched a movie together. It was the movie about a journey and it started with a song. Maybe I can use that."

"That sounds good. Anything I can do to help?"

"Just... be ready. I don't know if anything will happen, or how long it will last. If, if a way does open up, you should move quickly."

"Got it. Anything else?"

Giselle looked up into his eyes and smiled. "I love you."

One of the many reasons she loved him was to see the way his face softened at moments like this. "I love you too."

The exchanged a brief kiss that still managed to linger. Giselle drew as much serenity out of the kiss as she could. Her mind stilled and her love for Robert remained strong and true, and out of those things she pulled the words she'd heard, the words that had touched her heart with Morgan sitting by her side, and she began channeling them, singing softly as she stared down the manhole cover.

"Why are there so  
Many songs about rainbows  
And what's on the other side?  
Rainbows are visions  
But only illusions  
And rainbows have nothing to hide."

The pedestrians who had reclaimed the crosswalk still barely spared her a glance, but one or two paused a moment to listen. Giselle could feel their appreciation for the song, and it helped. Encouraged, she sang with more conviction.

"So we've been told  
And some choose to believe it.  
I know they're wrong, wait and see.

"Someday we'll find it -  
The rainbow connection -  
The lovers,  
The dreamers,  
And me."

Robert reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. She welcomed his touch as she had every day since their ballroom dance. Giselle hugged it by shrugging her shoulder and tipping her head, but her focus remained on the song and the music.

"Who says that every wish  
Will be heard and answered  
When wished on the morning star?  
Somebody thought of it,  
And someone believed it,  
And look what it's done so far.

"What's so amazing  
That keeps us stargazing,  
And what do we think we might see?"

Something sparked inside the manhole. Robert gasped out loud. Giselle studied the tiny point of blue light, let its warmth fill her as she continued singing.

"Someday we'll find it -  
The rainbow connection -  
The lovers,  
The dreamers,  
And me,  
All of us under its spell,  
Who knows,  
But it's probably  
Magic."

More points of light were appearing, in increasing numbers. Robert bent over to take a closer look and Giselle smiled at the back of his head, enjoying his wonderment.

"Have you been half-asleep  
And have you heard voices  
Each of them calling your name?  
Are those the sweet sounds  
That called the young sailors?  
I think they're one and the same."

The points were merging, become a disk of light floating a few feet down the manhole. Robert looked up at Giselle. She met his eyes, gestured urgently towards the light. Nodding, Robert touch her check briefly then sat on the edge of the manhole, looking down.

"I've heard it too  
Many times to ignore it.  
There's something that  
I'm supposed to be."

Robert jumped, and the disk of light flared and was gone. Blinking back a sudden rush of tears, Giselle stood and looked up at the lights of Times Square.

"Someday we'll find it -  
The rainbow connection -  
The lovers,  
The dreamers,  
And me."

The music faded from her mind. A couple of people clapped from the sidewalk. Giselle couldn't bear to accept their applause. Because she knew. She knew Robert's journey would not be a simple walk to the castle, finished in an hour. Giselle had to go back to Morgan and explain why her father might be gone for days, even weeks.

Andalasia had Robert now. And, as Giselle had discovered about New York, it might not want to give him back.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Giselle pushed the manhole cover back in place. Then she turned back towards the subway and prepared to make her way back to the apartment.

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

Robert was falling.

It was a slow fall, as if gravity was being a bit lackadaisical about asserting itself. What was worse, though, was that the blue light he had jumped into was clinging to him like he had jumped into an oil slick. His efforts to brush it off just seemed to make it worse. It seemed to be spreading.

With an effort he stopped trying. If Giselle had conjured these lights, they couldn't be bad. The light continued expanding, covering his body from head to foot. He closed his eyes as the light reached his face.

Suddenly he accelerated. This wasn't gravity; some force was hurling him through the air at breakneck speed. Afraid of doing exactly that, he ducked his head and covered it with his arms.

The force that had propelled him tapered off, and his arm-covered head hit something. Carefully Robert looked up. He seemed to be pressed against some kind of stone ceiling, although it was hard to make out in the darkness. He reached up, frowning. This was odd. He was bobbing against it like a balloon, except he didn't feel any lighter. Robert tried to give the stone a good shove, but all he did was to push himself down.

Grimacing, Robert looked around. Far off to one side he saw light. Not the blue light that Giselle had summoned; it looked like sunlight. By pushing against the ceiling, he was able to slowly make his way towards the light.

The air was getting thick. Uncomfortably so; every new breath he took was more difficult then the last. At one point his nose refused to accept the air that was coming in and shut itself off. Robert tried opening his mouth to breathe, but as soon as he tried it was filled with something... liquid. And suddenly Robert wasn't in a vast void of darkness; he was at the bottom of a body of water looking up at surface.

Because he hadn't managed a good breath in a while he was starving for air. Desperately he kicked upwards, and with a gasp broke through to the surface. Robert threw back his head and took a deep breath, then collapsed back into the water, spent. He'd just come closer to drowning than he'd ever expected to.

The water's edge was nearby. Robert had no other thought in his head than to get to dry land, and he splashed towards it. He found that the water was a lot shallower than he supposed, and he crawled out of the water, just drawing in breath, reveling in the feeling of air in his lungs.

Robert was on his hands and knees and as the panic faded, he was able to focus more on details.

There was a line around his hand.

Blinking, Robert sat back on his haunches, staring at his hand. There was a very distinct black line outlining his hand and arm. He rotated his hand on his wrist, and no matter what angle he looked at it, the black outline remained. With his other hand he tried to touch it, but that hand also had a black line, and when he pressed them together the black lines merged. He couldn't feel the lines at all, it was as if he was just touching his hand.

That, too, looked different. Gone where the small hairs, the subtle variations of color. His skin was now completely smooth and featureless. The color was... odd. Too bright, too uniform, almost like it had been... painted.

Almost afraid what he would see, Robert looked around.

He was in the middle of a forest. Or, more accurately, the painting of a forest. An extremely life-like rendering of a forest. Bright green leaves, friendly brown branches, invitingly lush bushes. It didn't seem to be three-dimensional. Robert could look at any tree near or far without having to refocus. The only indication of distance was that the details on the far-away trees tended to become an indistinct blur.

Robert looked over at the water - really, nothing more than a small pond. Its surface was now as smooth as glass. Robert bent over the surface, saw that the pool was all of three feet deep. Whatever had sent him here hadn't waited for him to change his mind.

A vague kind of fear was nibbling at the edges of Robert's mind. This couldn't be real, there couldn't be places like this. His brain was trying its best to disavow the evidence of his eyes.

Slowly and carefully he got to his feet. His body seemed to be responding exactly the way it did before. He felt as heavy, as solid as always. The slacks and shirt he'd worn to work looked mostly the same, just again without any variation of color. Indeed, they didn't even seem to be wet, despite the fact that he'd just crawled out of a pond.

He rubbed his hands together, still fixated on the lines around them. Was someone... *drawing* him? Robert looked up, half-expecting to see a giant hand holding a pencil over his head. He saw nothing but a perfectly blue, cloudless sky.

Robert closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and held it. Andalasia. Where Giselle was from. A different world, a place where magic held sway. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting - something out of a Renaissance Festival, perhaps. Not... this.

Robert decided he was as calm as he was likely to get for a while, and opened his eyes. He'd been expecting to appear in a castle courtyard - that's where Giselle had said the "wishing well" had been. Wherever this forest was, it didn't appear to be near any kind of castle.

Giselle should be able to tell him where he was. Robert reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. Despite the fact that his clothes seemed dry, the cell phone dripped water. As he looked at it, blue arcs of tiny lightning sparked from the keys, and then a small cloud of black smoke appeared with a poof above the phone before blowing rapidly away. Robert just stared at it, dumbfounded. He was certain that if he took a thousand phones and dumped them in the Hudson, not a single one of them would have shorted out like this. Still, the message was clear; his cell phone was dead.

Shaking his head slightly, Robert put the cell phone away. Now what? He looked around again, and suddenly froze.

Stepping out from behind a tree was a wolf.

Not just any wolf. A huge, pure black, evil-looking wolf, staring at him with huge yellow eyes. If you wanted to draw a picture of a creature that would eat you as soon as look at you, this would be what you drew. It locked eyes with Robert for a few seconds that felt like weeks. Then the wolf growled.

Frantically Robert's mind spun. What were you supposed to do in situations like this? Lie still and play dead? Climb a tree? Pull out a weapon and attack? For the first time ever he envied Edward and his ever-present sword.

The growl got louder, and that decided things. Robert turned and ran.

He heard the wolf beginning the chase. Robert instinctively adjusted his breathing and running for speed rather than endurance. For years Robert had been jogging or doing other cardio on a daily basis. Never had he imagined that his life would depend on it. The rhythm was easy to find - fear was a wonderful motivator - and he increased his pace as his eyes scanned the forest floor ahead, looking for a clear path.

The chase went on. The wolf was very close behind and Robert could hear its rough breathing. But it wasn't gaining, and Robert held out hope that it wouldn't be able to keep up with him for long. Robert's own breath was more ragged than he'd hoped, though - he'd done no warm-ups at all. It was just a question of stamina at this point - who could keep up the pace the longest.

The trees gave way and a dirt road appeared in front of Robert. He exulted; a smooth even surface would free him from having to be careful about where he put his feet and he could increase his pace. Robert leaped onto the road, turned, and ran for all he was worth.

The sounds of running ceased. Robert slowed down and looked over his shoulder, concerned that the wolf had taken a different path and would come at him from an unexpected direction. But no; the wolf was sitting on its haunches on the side of the road, its chest heaving.

Robert slowed and stopped, keeping a wary watch on the wolf. It panted for a while, then got up. "You were probably stringy anyway," it said before turning around and vanishing back into the forest.

The words nearly gave his already-stressed heart a jolt it couldn't handle. Unbidden to his mind came the image of Giselle sitting on his couch, saying with puzzlement, "Well not here they don't." Now he believed, as he never had fully before.

Talking animals. Painted forests. Cute animations. This was definitely the Andalasia that Giselle came from. And if she could adapt to New York, certainly Robert should be able to adjust to her world. The question only remained whether he'd live long enough to do so.

Wiping the sweat off his face, Robert looked up and down the road. Neither direction looked more appealing than the other. Ten minutes he'd been here, and he'd managed to get just as completely lost as Giselle had been in New York. He decided to continue the way he had been running, hoping to put some distance between himself and the wolf.

Bracing himself, Robert moved deeper into Andalasia.

~*~ 


	4. Chapter 4

Giselle hugged herself as she left the subway stop. The late afternoon had turned unexpectedly chilly despite her jacket. Hurriedly she moved towards the apartment, just a block away.

Her mind was buzzing, mostly with worry over Robert. For all his skills and insights into how people thought and felt, he'd been totally helpless when Narissa had attacked. Giselle hoped he'd learn from that. Andalasia's dangers were far different from New York's; Robert would learn to quickly adjust.

She hoped.

Sighing fearfully, Giselle rode the elevator up to the top floor. Usually she loved this trip, the feeling of motion despite the fact that nothing visible was moving. Another example of the wonderful magic of this world, and yet this time Giselle was too overwrought to enjoy it.

The doors opened, and Giselle quickly walked down the hallway to the apartment. She thought about her first trip down here, made unusually difficult by the wedding dress she'd been wearing, and a smile came to her lips. When she'd been totally lost and alone in New York, two people had found her and offered their help. Surely Robert would find someone like that in Andalasia.

She got out her keys and unlocked the door. Giselle stepped inside and took off her jacket. "Morgan?" she called out.

A second later an eight-year-old bundle of energy plowed into her stomach, hugging her fiercely. "Hi, Mom!"

Giselle felt her smile widen even as her chest tightened. It had been Morgan's choice to call her "Mom" after she'd married Robert. Giselle loved having Morgan as her daughter, and had been more than a little confused by the adoption papers Robert had her sign. What more did you need than to say that she and Morgan had agreed to be mother and daughter? But Robert's world was full of papers and proclamations, and Giselle trusted him, so she'd signed the forms, no matter how silly and unnecessary they were.

Giselle hugged Morgan back fiercely. "Hello, dear. How was school today?"

Morgan looked up, frowning. "What's wrong?"

Giselle touched Morgan's hair, amazed at how perceptive she was. "We'll talk in a minute. Is Sam here?"

"Yes." An attractive woman in her late forties stepped out of the kitchen. "I've got a casserole in the oven which will be done in a few minutes. Where's Robert?"

Giselle winced internally. Sam was an extremely practical woman who had, as usual, cut to the crux of the matter. Giselle had wanted more time to ease into this discussion. She got down on her haunches, looked Morgan straight in the eyes. "Dear, your father has gone away for a while."

"He has?" Morgan looked uncertain. "Where?"

"He decided to visit Andalasia."

"Andalasia!" Morgan's eyes grew wide. "Cool! Why didn't he bring us?"

"Because you're still in school, silly." Giselle grinned. "And I have work to do at the studio. But he'll be back soon."

"How long will he be gone?"

Giselle looked up. Sam had her arms crossed in front of her and looked a little stern. Giselle slowly rose to her feet. "I... I'm not entirely sure. He thinks it won't take too long."

Sam narrowed her eyes slightly. "How long do you think it will take?"

The woman was uncomfortably good at narrowing in on subjects Giselle had wanted to avoid. "Maybe... maybe longer than he expects."

"A few days? A week?"

"It could be."

"And maybe it could be longer."

Giselle moved her gaze away from Sam and down to Morgan, whose eyes were still wide but for an entirely different reason now. "Yes. I think there's a possibility he'll be gone for a long time."

Morgan swallowed. "Dad'll come back, won't he Mom?"

Giselle drew a shaky breath and tried to sound confident. "Your father loves you, Morgan, and he'll be back as soon as he possibly can, I promise."

"Morgan, why don't you go wash up and I'll put dinner on." Sam's eyes were still fixated on Giselle's. "And change your shirt."

Sighing, Morgan moved off towards the bathroom. Giselle watched her go, then reluctantly turned back towards Sam. For her part, Sam turned back towards the kitchen and Giselle followed her.

Sam was putting on some oven mitts. "So, Robert went to Andalasia."

Giselle nodded. "Yes."

"And how do you suppose he got there?"

Giselle hesitated. She'd spent many hours on her second day in New York talking with Sam about Andalasia. Giselle had described Andalasia in great detail, but it had only seemed to frustrate the older woman, who kept trying to pin down things like its exact location. Giselle's attempts to describe geographical features only added to Sam's exasperation.

And yet for all that, Sam had never lost her temper. She'd continued patiently trying to help Giselle find a way home. Giselle loved her for that. Sam occasionally babysat for Morgan, and Giselle had come to respect Sam's parenting skills and steadiness.

However, there was a core to Sam, a practicality that was unable to reconcile itself with Giselle's stories about Anadalasia. While Sam was very tolerant, Giselle had always felt that Sam didn't completely trust Giselle. And right now, that disbelieving distrust was fully manifest.

Steeling herself, Giselle tried answering in as calm a voice as possible. "I helped him get there. I... Somehow I opened a way for him to get from here to Andalasia."

Sam lifted the casserole out of the oven, set it to cool on the countertop. "Oh? Are you telling me you could have gone back to Andalasia at any time?"

"I... I didn't think I could. Robert wanted me to try and it worked."

"It never occurred to you to try when you first came here?"

"Oh no. I knew Edward would find me."

"I see." Sam frowned. "Where is Robert, really?"

"I told you. Andalasia."

Sam shook her head. "You know there's no such place as Andalasia, right?"

"Oh, but there is! It's a beautiful place where-"

"Yes, yes, past the Meadow of Contentment, I know."

"Er, the Meadows of Joy."

Sam folded her arms again. "You're really not going to tell me where he is?"

Giselle felt her brow furrowing. "But I did tell you."

Sam sighed heavily. "I know it's a wonderful fantasy you like to live in from time to time, and I know Robert needed that kind of... whimsy in his life. But please, don't let your dream world hurt Morgan. She's too special a kid for that."

"I know." Giselle clasped her hands in front of her. "I'll make certain Andalasia doesn't hurt Morgan, I promise."

"Good." Sam took off the oven mitts and put them on the counter. "I'll be going then."

"Oh." Giselle watched as Sam put on her coat. "Won't you stay for dinner?"

"No, I have to get ready for my daughter's graduation next week, I'm quite busy. Oh!" Sam took a piece of paper from next to the phone. "A woman called for Robert. She was quite insistent. I expect she'll call back this evening."

Giselle frowned at the name. Elle Ratcliffe. It wasn't familiar to her. "Thank you."

"If you want my advice?" Sam waited until Giselle nodded. "When she asks for Robert, don't tell her he's in Andalasia. Just say he's away on a business trip."

"All right." Giselle smiled. "Thank you so much for helping with Morgan today."

"You're welcome." Sam smiled back, then left.

Morgan walked up to her side. She stared at the door. "Sam puts too much cheese in the casserole."

"But I like cheese." Giselle shook her head free of the many thoughts that threatened to overwhelm it. "Maybe we can pick some off of your portions."

"Is Dad really going to be gone for a long long time?"

"Oh, I don't think so. Edward will watch over him I'm sure."

"But he's so silly!"

"Edward? He's very kind and noble."

"Still silly." They walked back to the dining room table, and Morgan sat as Giselle served the casserole.

Dinner was all right. Giselle focused on Morgan, asking her about school. She also asked Morgan's advice about the spring show Giselle was trying to put together, and Morgan offered a few ideas. As always, Giselle found delight in talking with Morgan and was grateful beyond words to have her as a daughter.

Towards the end of dinner there was a knock on the door. Morgan brightened and put her napkin on the table. "I'll get it!"

"Finish your milk first, sweetie." Giselle rose. "I'll go see who it is."

Morgan grabbed her glass and began to drain it. Smiling, Giselle went to the front door and opened it.

On the other side stood a woman Giselle had never seen before. She was about Giselle's age, with long dark hair painstaking coiffed. Giselle's experience in the fashion world of New York ended with children's fashion, but she knew enough about adult fashion to know that this woman was dressed in the latest - and most expensive - clothes that New York had to offer. The woman was beautiful, but in a way that let Giselle cold for some reason.

Her smile threatened to fade but Giselle determinedly kept it in place. "Hello. May I help you?"

The woman looked her up and down. "I'm looking for Robert Philip."

"I'm sorry, he's not here. Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, absolutely not." The woman gave her another long slow look. "Are you the maid?"

Giselle blinked. "No, I live here. Is there a message I can leave?"

"There is not." The woman opened her purse, took out a small mirror, studied her face. "What you can do is tell me where Robert is and how I may immediately get a hold of him."

Giselle hesitated, mindful of Sam's warning. "He's away on a business trip. I don't think he'll be available to speak."

"Nonsense." The woman dropped the mirror back into her purse and snapped it shut. "Get him on the phone this instant. Tell him Elle wishes to speak with him. He will take my call."

This woman's manner was something Giselle had never experienced before and she found herself badly flummoxed. "I am sorry, I don't-"

"Who is it?" Giselle turned to see Morgan run up to the foyer, grinning widely. Morgan stopped abruptly, and the smiled failed. "Oh. Mother?"

"Yes?"

Giselle felt her eyes going wide, because she had not been the one to answer. She turned back to the vision of elegance and perfection in the hallway.

Morgan's mother raised an eyebrow. "Understand now? Get Robert on the phone and tell him his wife needs him at once."

~*~ 


	5. Chapter 5

The day was cool but not cold, the same early-spring day that New York had been experiencing. After the sprint through the woods, Robert had taken off his jacket to cool down, but now he was contemplating putting it back on. The day was lengthening towards evening and the night might be cold.

It was also getting dark, something Robert was not used to. New York was always lit up, a kind of eternal glow he'd taken for granted. Even though Giselle had expressed her wonderment about the city's lights many times, Robert had never fully appreciated the counterpoint - that Andalasia must get quite dark at night.

The only encouraging thing was that the road looked well-used and was getting wider, which meant he had to be approaching civilization of some sort. Hopefully soon; this was taking far longer than Robert had anticipated, and he had no way of contacting Giselle or Morgan. He sighed heavily, worried about Morgan. This would be the first time ever he hadn't talked to her before she went to bed. Thank goodness Giselle would be there for her.

His reverie was broken by the flickering of light. Not much, Robert realized as he looked at it, just a fireplace as seen through a cottage's small window. But in the ever-increasing gloom, it shone like a beacon.

Robert wavered, looking down the road. He would have preferred to reach the castle tonight, but right now he had no idea how close he was, or even if he was going in the right direction. Hopefully the people in the cottage were akin to hospitable dwarves.

Smiling to himself, Robert followed a small dirt path to the front door of the cottage. He tentatively knocked, and almost instantly the door was flung open. A large, smiling man stood there. If someone were to draw "Villager, Male, Middle-aged, Friendly", the man in the doorway could very well be the result. Slightly heavyset, beginning to bald, but with a face that seemed prone to smiling.

"Greetings, Traveler," the man said in a booming voice. "Have you come seeking shelter from the night?"

Robert nodded, relieved. "Yes. I'm sorry to impose, but I'm a stranger to... to this land and was hoping you could give me a place to camp out for the night."

"We'll do more than that." This was said by Villager, Female, Wife of Previously-Referenced Male. She pushed the man aside and took Robert by the hand. "We're just setting down to dinner. I'm glad you're here t'keep us company."

Robert allowed himself to be drawn inside. "Thank you very much. I'm Robert."

"Pleased to meet you," the woman said amiably. "I'm Frances and this lout be my husband Jed. Won't ya have a seat?"

Jed took Robert's jacket. "This be some fancy clothes you have. Be ya a wizard?"

"No, a lawyer." Robert sat as a home-made bowl and utensils were put in front of him. Almost faster than he could follow, some kind of stew was ladled into the bowl, quickly topped with a hunk of bread. After his narrow escape and long walk, Robert found himself quite hungry, and the food smelled wonderful.

He waited until Jed and Frances sat, and they all set to. The food was odd-tasting. It was difficult to put his finger on, exactly. It was hot and it was good, but at the same time bland. From a stew he might expect a variety of textures and flavors, but it was oddly homogenous.

Almost he'd gotten used to the tiny lines around everything. Robert eyed the food on his spoon, wondering if he was eating a strange from of ink.

Frances was watching him closely. "Is it not t'your liking?"

"Oh no." Robert hastily put the food in his mouth, then spoke after swallowing. "It's delicious. You are an excellent cook."

"Ah, you're trying t'flatter me." She smiled warmly at him. "Well, it'll get ye naught but more stew."

"Thank you." Robert allowed Frances to serve him another helping of stew.

Jed had already inhaled three helpings of the stew and was now leaning back, eyeing Robert. "So tell us about yer journey, Robert. From where'd you come and where are you going?"

Robert looked at the expectant faces and realized that this is why they'd so readily welcomed him into their homes. Without television or the internet or an easy access to books, they must be starved for anything stimulating to do. For a brief moment Robert wondered how Giselle had managed thirty years living like this. No wonder she had cultivated so many animal friends.

"Well," he said slowly, "I come from an island called Manhattan."

"Manhattan," Frances echoed. "I've not heard of it. Be it across the ocean?"

Robert wondered which ocean she was referring to before realizing it hardly mattered. "Far across, yes. I've come looking for a country called Andalasia. I'm not sure I'm in the right place."

"Ah, then luck be with ye." Jed grinned widely. "You're here. Come the morning you just follow the road towards the sun and you'll be in the Commons by noon."

"Oh, excellent." Robert breathed a small sigh of relief. "Is the castle near there?"

To Robert's surprise, both of their smiles vanished. Jed nodded slowly. "Yes. But I'd avoid it if I 'twere you."

"Oh?" Robert studied them, trying to find the source of their disquiet. "Why, if I may ask?"

"The Evil Queen holds sway there." France's voice had become low and somber. "And woe becomes anyone who crosses her path."

Robert's heart dropped into his stomach. "The Evil Queen? Na-"

"Do not say her name!" Frances' eyes darted around the room. "She has spies everywhere, and if ye be heard to say aught about her, her guard will find you and throw you into the dungeon to rot away the years."

"And that if ye be lucky," Jed agreed. "She has spells that can addle your mind, make you say and do things that..." Jed shuddered, unable to finish.

Robert looked back and forth between them, numb. Desperately he cast his mind back, thinking about that night at the ball. Narissa had transformed herself, grabbed him, climbed to the top of the building, and then fallen. Robert had been too busy falling himself and being terrified before Giselle rescued him to notice any details. He'd only assumed that Narissa had perished in the long fall.

But when magic factored into the equation, anything was possible.

The full folly of his journey here was at last becoming clear. Robert tried to keep calm against the growing despair. "What about Prince Edward? Is he still at the castle?"

"Aye," Jed answered, "and he be a good man. But he is under her evil spell. He is naught but her puppet, enslaved to her will."

Frances nodded. "She be the scourge of Andalasia. She spent all the kingdom's wealth and now steals from poor peasants like us'n. It won't be long before her magic spreads from here to all land beyond, including your fair island. My advice would be t'flee back and warn all your folks about the Evil Queen. She'll be coming for you right soon."

"Oh boy." This sounded bad. The thought of Narissa's magic running unchecked through New York was troubling. If she could change herself into a giant lizard and survive unscathed from a fifty-story fall, what else might she be capable of?

Shaking that off, Robert tried to focus on what had brought him here. "I actually came here seeking...." Robert paused, trying to phrase it in this world's terms. "Seeking a good and beautiful woman from my land. I thought she might be with Edward."

Jed and Frances exchanged puzzled glances. "I know naught of who you seek," Frances replied. "Many of the Evil Queen's enemies are in the castle dungeon, though, and none can speak of what happens to them there. If your fair lass is to be found anywhere in the castle, it will be there."

Robert covered his eyes with one hand, aghast. Nancy. Thrown into a dungeon, perhaps being tortured and abused these past two years. Or perhaps even dead. And Robert couldn't help but feel that it was entirely his fault - that by driving Nancy into Edward's arms, he had condemned her to this fate. If he'd been more sensible, more reasonable about his growing feelings for Giselle, Nancy might not have been hurt so badly. Then and now.

Out of all that came a growing resolve. He had to rescue her. No matter how long it took, he simply had to save Nancy. And that probably meant facing Narissa once more.

He shook his head, remember exactly how useless he'd been against her the last time. One thing was clear; he would need some help.

Robert dropped his hand and looked at the grim faces of Jed and Frances. "Thank you for telling me all that. I'll have to go find her. Is there anyone you can think of that would know the castle and its layout?"

Jed frowned. "All I can think of is Horace. He used't'be Captain of the Guard until the Evil Queen threw him out for defying her, and lucky he was she didn't do worse. He spends most of his days at the Crown Pub, off the Commons. If ye be looking to save your lady, he be the one most likely t'help."

Horace. Already Robert felt a little better. He could find allies, he could overcome Narissa. This world rewarded bravery and heroism. He'd find and save Nancy, of that he was certain.

Almost certain.

Robert's newly-found enthusiasm dimmed. The confrontation with Narissa in New York had been such a close thing. If Edward hadn't stuck his sword into the elevator. If Nathaniel hadn't overcome his fear and desire for his Queen. If the chipmunk hadn't finally found a way to communicate. If Giselle's sword throw had been just a little off. If. If. If.

If only he hadn't come to Andalasia in the first place.

Robert violently quenched that thought. Nancy was in trouble, and he was in a position to try and rescue her; that was all that mattered.

Resolutely he stood. "Thank you for the meal. I need to get to Horace right away. I am indebted to you for your hospitality."

"Now, lad, there's no cause to go rushing off," Frances said reasonably. "You won't get far in the dark, and it'll be past midnight 'afore you get there with not much you can do, tired and alone. Best you rest up the night here with us and begin afresh in the morn."

Robert thought about her words and found them sound. He sighed. "Thank you. Do you have a barn or something I can sleep in?" Or a hollow tree, a whimsical voice in his head said. Despite everything, he smiled slightly.

"None of that, now." Frances stood up. "I'll make ye a place by the fire. Don't go runnin' off until you've had a chance to break your fast with us, too. You'll need a full stomach for your heroic deeds."

Robert's smile grew. An entire world filled with people as kind and caring as Giselle. What a wonderful place this must be.

But it also produced people like Narissa. Robert's smile faded away. He had a lot to think about before the morning. And a lot to consider before he faced the Evil Queen once more.

~*~ 


	6. Chapter 6

Giselle could only blink. It took considerable effort to get words to form on her mouth. "His wife?"

A voice floated from inside the apartment. "Ex-wife."

Giselle turned towards Morgan. She was standing absolutely still, her eyes fixed on Elle. Her expression was a strange, quiet expression Giselle had never seen before. She'd also never heard Morgan use that flat tone when speaking.

"Morgan." Elle thrust her purse into Giselle's hand and pushed strongly, forcing Giselle to take a step back into the apartment. Elle brushed by her and stopped in front of Morgan. She reached out, gently clasped Morgan's chin with her hand, and turned her head from side to side. "Oh, those cheeks. Your father lets you eat too much. And honestly, you must do something about your hair. It could be lovely if you took care of it."

"Yes, Mother," Morgan said in the same monotone as before.

"Now, go get your mother a bottle of water, she's absolutely parched."

"We don't have bottled water." This time, Morgan's voice was just a little testy. "It's ecologically unsound."

"Oh, what a big word for such a small girl." Elle sighed. "I don't suppose you have mineral water?"

Morgan shook her head.

"Then tap water. You filter your water, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then do hurry dear."

"Yes, Mother." Morgan glanced at Giselle, then turned and walked quickly towards the kitchen.

Elle watched her go. "She added three inches to my hips. I told Robert never again." Heaving another sigh, she turned towards Giselle. "Now, whoever you are, I'm still waiting to talk to my husband."

Giselle felt like she'd lost control of her life somewhere in the past five minutes. Frantically she tried to regain a small measure. "Your ex-husband, don't you mean?"

"Yes, yes, ex-husband," Elle replied with more than a hint of exasperation. "Call him. Now."

Slowly Giselle closed the apartment door and put Elle's purse on the table next to it, all the while thinking hard. She had told Sam the unbridled truth about where Robert had gone and had been met with polite but strong disbelief. Giselle instinctively knew that to tell this woman that same truth would be a dangerous mistake.

But neither did she want to lie. Giselle drew in a deep breath and looked Elle in the eye. "He's not in New York at the moment, and I have no way to contact him. I don't know when he'll be back. He thought it would be very soon, but it might be a few days."

"Unacceptable. Robert always carries his phone with him."

"And he did this time. But I would be quite surprised if the phone works where he's gone."

"And where is that, exactly?"

"That is a private matter between Robert and me."

Elle narrowed his eyes. Her eyes flicked down to Giselle's left hand and back. "You're her, aren't you? The latest model?"

Giselle frowned slightly. "Model? I don't understand."

"She and Dad got married." Morgan walked up and handed Elle a glass of water. "She's my mom now."

"Well, it would be just like your father to marry someone like her." Elle took the glass and took several swallows. She handed the glass back to Morgan, keeping her gaze fixed on Giselle. "This is an emergency. You must get me in contact with Robert at once."

"I told you I can't. I simply have no way of reaching him." Giselle paused, trying to keep her irritation in check. She was getting frustrated by people not believing what she said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Elle gave her another up-and-down look. "What is it you do, exactly?"

"I design children's clothing at the company Robert and I run."

"You design clothing?" Elle laughed. "You couldn't possibly! Look at what you're wearing."

Giselle looked down at her clothes and back up. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing!" Morgan stepped in front of Giselle and faced Elle. "She wears pretty clothing."

"Oh Morgan, you're so young." Elle turned away, walked deeper into the apartment, looking around.

Morgan looked up. Giselle smiled at her, squeezing her shoulder. They followed Elle into the dining room, where the remains of dinner were still on display. Elle was examining the table closely, then looked away and sniffed. Probably, Giselle realized, looking for evidence that Robert was in the apartment and not finding any.

Giselle tried to make her voice calm and reasonable. It helped to think of Sam. "I wish I could help you find Robert. I'll make certain that when he becomes available he will call you."

Elle sniffed again, the pulled a chair from the dining room table and sat down. "I'm prepared to wait."

Giselle exchanged a dismayed look with Morgan. Giselle felt completely out of her depth here. She simply had no idea what to do about Elle.

The dinner dishes, however, were another matter. Giselle smiled. "Time to clean up, do you think?"

Morgan grinned widely. "Yeah!"

Taking Morgan's hand, she spun the girl in place and began singing her working song. The tune came quickly and easily, and soon Giselle was in full voice as they began to clear the dishes and wash them. Morgan sang along enthusiastically. Sometimes Morgan created her own lyrics, but tonight she seemed content to let Giselle lead the song.

The table was cleared, the food put away, and the dishes washed in very short order. Giselle brought the song to a close, and ended as she usually did by asking Morgan, "Wasn't this fun?"

Morgan giggled and hugged her. Giselle hugged her back. "Now, bathtime and then homework."

Morgan looked up at her. "It's just spelling. Will you help me later, please?"

"Of course. Now, don't forget to brush your hair out after you comb it."

"It gets too frizzy when I do that." Morgan flittered away towards the bathroom, giving the dining room a wide berth.

Giselle, alas, couldn't quite do the same. Slowly she stepped back and took a seat at the table.

Elle was watching her with both eyebrows raised. "That's about the most awful thing I've ever seen."

"It's fun. Morgan enjoys it and I enjoy it, and it makes the work go ever-so-much faster."

"Robert's trained you well as a domestic servant, hasn't he?"

"I... I am not his servant."

"Keep telling yourself that, darling. From what I've seen, he's got you working as a live-in maid and so self-deluded that you think you love it."

"I do love it!"

"Love being his maid? As I thought."

Giselle trembled slightly with emotions she'd never felt before and was unsure how to categorize. How this woman could be Morgan's mother Giselle couldn't understand. Her voice was sharper than she intended when she asked, "Look, if you will just go home I will have Robert call you."

Elle looked away, her taunting smile fading.

After two minutes of silence that felt like they lasted weeks, Giselle stood up. "Would you like to say goodbye to Morgan before you go?"

Elle remained seated. Her expression was now blank, and for the first time Giselle could see a trace of resemblance - Morgan's blank look had been much the same.

The reminder that Elle was Morgan's mother was enough to soften Giselle's tone. "I do apologize. I know you want to see Robert. If it was within my power to have you speak with him, I would. But there's nothing more I can do for you right now. Please, go home and either he or I will call you."

The words seemed dragged out of Elle's mouth, each syllable a struggle. "I do not have a home."

Giselle's mouth dropped open. She blinked at Elle a few times.

Elle looked up, and now she seemed annoyed. "My second husband changed the locks on the house while I was out. He had one of his lawyers serve me with divorce papers on the doorstep of our own townhouse. It was a disgusting display of cowardice and Robert, no matter his other failings, is an excellent divorce attorney. He can force my pig of a husband to give me what's mine."

Giselle covered her mouth with her hands. "Your husband... threw you out of your home?"

Elle clenched her jaw and looked away.

"And... and the only person you thought could help you isn't here."

Elle's face remained stone, but her lips thinned slightly.

Giselle found water coming to her eyes. "Oh, you poor dear." She walked up, fell to her knees, and hugged Elle.

"Stop that!" Elle quickly rose to her feet and backed away. "I need someone who knows how to file a court order, not someone who can sing and dance! Someone who can reinstate my credit cards, not someone who can cut cloth! I needed Robert, and instead I got *you*!"

For the first time, Giselle heard it - the deep pain in Elle's voice. Slowly she stood up. "So you have no place to stay tonight?"

"That's it, I've had enough of you are your domestic blissful ignorance." Elle strode angrily towards the front door. "Go back to your singing, it's all you know how to do!"

Giselle's hand flashed out, grabbed Elle's forearm. The woman spun, a shocked expression on her face, glaring. Giselle responded in a simple, quiet voice. "When I first came to New York, I was lost and had nothing but the dress I was wearing and knew of no one that could help. I was alone and confused and scared. I felt helpless, and I didn't enjoy feeling helpless. I don't think you enjoy it either."

Elle grimaced and looked away.

Giselle waited a moment before continuing. "Then Robert and your daughter found me and took me in. They gave me a place to sleep and allowed me to find my bearings. I will love them always because of that. And I would be a terrible wife to Robert and mother to Morgan if I didn't show you the same kindness they gave me."

Elle tried to rip her arm out of Giselle's grasp. "You are not her mother."

Giselle kept her hand firmly clasped. "Not in the way you are, no. And because you're the one who brought Morgan into this world and allowed her to give us such joy, I hope you will give me the deep honor and privilege of giving you a place to sleep for the night."

Violently Elle pulled away. Giselle let her go and watched as Elle stalked to the front door, grabbed her purse from the table, wrenched the door open and stood absolutely still facing out into the hallway.

After a minute, Giselle walked up behind Elle. "Please," she said quietly, "let us help."

Another minute went by. Elle then seemed to shrink in on herself a little and closed the door. "I don't suppose you have a Jacuzzi."

"A what?"

"I've had bedrooms bigger than this entire apartment." Elle spun about, walked past Giselle, and looked around. "Where is the guest bedroom?"

"I'm sorry, we don't have a guest bedroom. I can make up the couch for you, though, it's very comfortable."

"You must be joking." Elle walked up disdainfully poked the couch with the tip of her shoe. "This isn't fit for dogs to sleep on."

Giselle sighed. "I'll sleep here, then, and you can sleep in our bedroom."

"The mattress had better be firm. Morgan left me with some awful backaches." Elle strode out of the living room and towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. "Be sure to let me know the instant Robert calls."

The bedroom door was firmly shut. Giselle blew out a deep breath and wondered what new experiences lay in store. And whether she would survive them with her peace of mind intact.

Berating herself for her pessimism, Giselle went to help Morgan with her spelling.

~*~ 


	7. Chapter 7

Sweating was an odd sensation in Andalasia.

The walk into town had been long and not particularly difficult, and the early spring weather kept Robert relatively cool. But hours of exertion had definitely taken their toll, and Robert had long since taken off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder.

That didn't keep him from perspiring. It wasn't an overall sensation that left him feeling sticky all over. Rather, a few large drops of sweat rolled down his face occasionally. How this could be an effective cooling mechanism, Robert had no idea.

It made him wonder exactly how much his body had changed. It clearly worked differently in this world than it did in New York. That blue light that had covered him from head to toe - clearly it had transformed him somehow. It must have done something similar to Giselle. She certainly sweated like everyone else back home. He'd watch her sometimes, lying beside him, the sheen on her skin slowly evaporating...

Robert wrenched his mind away from that. Here and now, his concern had to be Nancy. He had to find and rescue her. Then he could focus on his problems with Giselle.

He came to a halt outside what might be the town square. It seemed to be a convergence of two crude roads dotted with small buildings. Looming in the distance was the castle, a silvery thing that seemed too perfect to be real.

Robert stepped to one side, out of the pedestrian traffic which was surprisingly heavy. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but for what appeared to be nothing more than a small village, there were dozens of people moving around on various errands. For the most part they seemed happy and smiled and nodded at Robert whenever he made eye contact, but no one stopped to talk. Somehow he'd had in his mind a land where people sung to each other constantly, but so far he'd not heard anything other than cheerful hello's or bright conversations. Perhaps the singing thing was peculiar to Giselle and Edward.

As his eyes moved around the square, Robert saw a two-story building which, while tiny by New York standards, was bigger than any of the nearby buildings. Over its front door swung a sign whose only adornment was a gold crown. Deciding that this must be the Crown Pub, he made his way over.

The interior was surprisingly dark and cool. Robert put his jacket back on as his eyes adjusted. There was an area that looked like any bar he had ever seen, except instead of wall full of bottles there were two large kegs with taps. A truly authentic pub.

A young woman, whose strong arms and friendly smile practically screamed "barmaid", came up to him. "Hello, dearie. Wantin' a pint?"

"Um..." Suddenly Robert realized he had no money, nothing this world would accept. His credit cards would just receive blank stares. He stalled for time with, "I'm looking for Horace. Can you point me towards him?"

The barmaid's smile dimmed slightly. "There, in the corner."

"Uh..." Robert looked around, saw a large, unshaven man drinking from a mug. At least, Robert assumed that the shading on the man's face was meant to portray unshaveness. Robert rubbed his own chin; Jed had leant him a straight razor this morning which he had used to very carefully shave. His skin now felt impossibly smooth. He wondered how it would have felt if he hadn't shaved. Andalasia didn't seem to cater much towards subtle variation.

Robert refocused his mind. He flashed a smile at the barmaid. "Thank you."

"Here, dearie." She lifted a mug off the tray and handed it to him.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't have any... any coin at the moment."

"Then you'll pay me when you can. And you'll need it if you're going to face old Horace there." She winked.

Robert smiled and took the mug. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome." She grinned, then made her way towards some other people who were also just entering the bar.

Robert took a step forward to give them room, eyeing Horace. The man was the largest one he'd seen so far, easily over six feet. He looked to at one time have been heavily muscled, but a lot of that seemed to have been replaced with fat. The eyes, while slightly bleary, were focused on Robert as he approached.

Robert tried a smile. "Hello. Are you Horace?"

"I am," said the man in a deep voice. "Nice coat you have there."

"Er, thanks. May I sit?"

"I ain't stopping you."

Carefully Robert sat, taking a sip from his mug as he did. The ale was warm and flat and very much not to his liking, but he hid his displeasure as Horace seemed to be a fan judging from the large mug he held.

Robert set his mug down. "I understand you used to work at the castle."

"Aye, before the Evil Queen threw me out."

"Why'd she do that?"

"I wouldn't be her puppet like that fool Edward is. I stood my ground and was lucky to escape with m'life." Horace took a swig from his ale.

"I've heard." Robert paused, organizing his thoughts. "I'm looking for someone who might be held in the castle dungeon. A woman about my age, dark hair, not from around here."

Horace shrugged. "Dungeon is a big place. Don't know how many people are there or what they look like. Be you a prince looking to rescue a noble maiden?"

Robert snorted. "Not exactly. But if you can help me rescue her, I can see to it you get rewarded." How, he wasn't sure yet. If he could reunite Edward and Nancy, they might be willing to make Horace captain of the guard or at least throw some gold his way. Those were details for later.

Horace finished his mug and frowned at its emptiness. Robert pushed his mostly-full mug in Horace's direction. With no further prompting, Horace set aside his own mug and took Robert's. A few swallows followed before Horace set the mug down with a belch. "I can get you inside the castle, and maybe to the dungeon. Gonna be dangerous. You up for a good fight?"

Truth be told, Robert had never hit anyone in anger his entire life, and hadn't reacted well the last time he'd been in danger. He drew a breath. "I've fought the Queen before and won. I can do it again."

Horace raised a bushy eyebrow. "You defeated the Evil Queen?"

"Well... she mostly beat herself. But I know how to goad her into those kind of self-defeating attacks. If Edward and... and the maiden I'm seeking are around, they'll help too." Robert leaned slightly forward. "I just need someone to show the way."

Horace grunted and finished off Robert's ale. "You look like the kind that'd soil himself at the first sign of trouble."

"I'm not. I won't." Robert put as much confidence in his voice as he could. If nothing else, he'd at least put himself between Giselle and danger when it had arisen. He was certain he wouldn't blink if danger reared its head again.

Horace rose suddenly to his feet. Robert blinked, only now realizing what a huge presence the man was; wide and tall, he seemed to fill the space. "Then we best be on our way. We have not much time."

Surprised, Robert rose and followed the man out the door. Horace's gait was only slightly wobbly but he seemed to eat up the ground with his large stride. Robert had to walk very quickly to keep up. "What's the rush?" he asked.

"Edward loves to inspect his troops each day around this time. They won't be patrolling the grounds until he's done."

The castle was approaching rapidly. Again, Robert was taken by how beautiful it was, all white marble and long colorful pennants. The sun gleamed off of the castle, making it almost glow. Robert wondered how that was even possible. Surely castles got dirty here.

The road led to the front gate but Horace took them down a side path that went around the castle. The castle walls were covered with ivy, and at one point Horace stepped off the path and felt behind the ivy. "This be a secret entrance. Edward used it often when he went off a-hunting. Since then it's been- aha!"

Something clicked, and Horace gave the wall a push. A door opened, beyond which Robert could see a well-manicured lawn. Horace took a swift look around before beckoning Robert to go through.

The castle grounds were lovely, with plants everywhere and birds chirping happily, another perfectly-drawn painting that moved. Robert didn't have much of a chance to take it in, as Horace grabbed his arm and almost dragged him towards a small wooden door. "Hurry we must. The guards won't be wandering about, but the servants might."

Horace opened the door and practically threw Robert inside. He stumbled and looked around. He was in a stone corridor with very little decoration - a servant's passage most likely. The corridor went off in two directions and after closing the door, Horace immediately took off down one.

Robert followed behind, feeling more than a little apprehensive. Things were happening much more quickly than he'd intended. He'd had a vague notion of trying to gather up more support to overthrow Narissa, but instead had let Horace propel him into a confrontation he wasn't entirely ready for.

The corridor took a couple of turns, Horace ignoring the doors on either side they kept passing. Finally he slowed and motioned Robert to be silent. He crept up to a corner and peeked around it. Robert hunched himself down and tried a peek of his own.

At the end of the passageway stood a heavily-barred door. Two bored-looking guards stood on either side of it. That had to be the dungeon entrance. Robert strained his ears, half-expecting to hear the sounds of screaming people, but heard nothing.

Robert pulled his head back and turned towards Horace. "What now?" he said in a whisper.

Horace's face looked grim. "Two guards? That be the Evil Queen's work. There used to be naught but one before. It will be a nasty bit of business getting them out of the way. You be up to it?"

Frowning, Robert looked around for inspiration. "How do we knock them out without raising the alarm?"

"You'll have to grab 'em by the throat, quick-like. Make it so they don't breathe and wait until they stop moving. And don't get stuck by their swords while it's happening."

Robert tried to envision himself choking an armed guard and wasn't able to do so. "Isn't that dangerous? To them, I mean. I don't want to kill them."

Horace shrugged. "You be wanting to rescue your princess? You have to risk getting your hands dirty."

Robert shook his head. "She's not a princess. Look... there's got to be a better way to-"

A sound interrupted him. From far down the corridor, around a corner, he could clearly here the sound of feet marching. A patrol, most likely. Robert's eyes darted around, but the nearest door was halfway down the corridor. "Oh great," he said in an urgent whisper. "What do we do now?"

Horace looked thoroughly disgusted. "This way, quick." He ran towards the far door, faster on his feet than his size made him appear.

Robert followed quickly after. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the corridor, and he could hear one of the dungeon guards call out, "Who's there?"

They reached the door. Horace opened it, revealing what looked to be a supply room of some sort. Barrels and crates provided ample hiding places, but... "I think they heard us," Robert said, looking back down the corridor. "And they'll be coming at us from both sides. If we hide here, they'll find us."

Horace snorted. "Not unless they think they've caught someone."

Robert frowned, still looking down the corridor. "How-"

Something hit him, hard, on the back of his head. He stumbled forward and collapsed in the middle of the corridor, his head reeling. Large hands pulled roughly at his jacket, taking it off him. Robert tried to turn his head and just barely managed to see the supply room door closing with Horace on the other side.

"Ho there!" A cry from one end of the corridor. Robert looked up, saw one of the dungeon guards pointing at him. Robert tried to stand and sagged against the wall, upright but dizzy. He turned the other way but only saw more guards running towards him from the other end of the passage. He took a step and fell, still unable to find his balance.

He was lifted roughly to his feet. Two guards grabbed each of his arms while a third roughly bound his hands behind his back with a heavy rope. Robert couldn't even find the ability to speak as he was hauled away back towards the corridor.

A groan escaped his lips, and one of the guards smirked. "It's no use begging. You're where you're not supposed t'be, and the Evil Queen will want to know. Better you dashed your brains out back there, I'm thinking. The Evil Queen will not show you better mercy than that."

Robert gave an experimental tug on the ropes. Only now was he beginning to regain a bit of equilibrium, and the horror of his predicament was at last beginning to seep through. Mugged by Horace - the last thing he'd ever expected. Dumped at the feet of Narissa's guards, and being dragged before her. Rather than save Nancy, he was just going to get dumped into a cell alongside her. And only if he was very lucky and not just turned into a toad or something.

A door was opened and he was shoved inside. Expecting a dungeon or interrogation chamber, he was mildly surprised to find what looked like an ordinary sitting room, with carpets, wall hangings, and tasteful decorations. He looked around but no one else was in the room. Robert made a motion as if to sit but had his bound wrists immediately tugged, forcing him to stay upright.

One of the guards leaned forward casually. "What were you up to, scum? Trying to steal the Evil Queen's secrets? She'll roast you alive for that."

"Be quiet," one of the other guards said urgently. "Here she comes."

A door across the room opened. Robert blinked. This was the first time he'd seen someone he'd known in New York rendered in Andalasia, and the difference was startling. Narissa's skin was smooth and flawless, with no crow's feet around her eyes or deep creases down her neck. It made her look younger somehow. That was accentuated by the fact that she wasn't wearing her dark brown hair up in an elaborate coif, but wore it loosely around her shoulders. And rather than black robes, she was wearing a more comfortable-looking white skirt and blue blouse. She still had a bejeweled silver crown on her head, although it looked less regal than before. It was hard to match the creature he'd fought in that New York ballroom with the drawing of a young-seeming woman in front of him now. Something didn't quite match up.

Robert held her gaze for a few seconds, his stunned expression matched by her wide eyes. Then she began to smile. A small smile at first, but one that grew and grew until it almost split her face.

The smile looked familiar. Very, very familiar.

And then it hit him all at once. "Nancy?"

She laughed, a sound he knew quite well. "That's Queen Nancy to you. Welcome to Andalasia, Robert."

~*~ 


	8. Chapter 8

Giselle looked at the mannequin and shook her head. What she had put on it just didn't look right. It was just a collection of fabrics stitched together; it wasn't a dress.

Her inspiration was failing her today. Giselle sighed and put down the needle she'd been holding. Best to leave it for a time when she wasn't so distracted.

So far she'd heard nothing from Robert, and even though she'd been expecting that she was still very worried. Andalasia had dangers Robert didn't fully comprehend, and while she had faith he'd overcome them, the lingering doubt remained that he'd let slip his guard at the wrong time and terrible things would happen as a result.

And then there was Elle. When Giselle had woken up this morning, Elle was still fast asleep. Giselle had tiptoed around the bedroom while getting dressed, trying not to disturb her. Elle had fallen asleep at the very edge of the bed, on her side curled up in a ball, a tissue clutched in one hand. It wrung Giselle's heart to think of what Elle had gone through in the night. Elle was still sleeping when Giselle and Morgan had left.

A bright tune began playing in the pocket of her skirt. Giselle smiled, as always pleased by the wonderful magic of this world, and reached down into her pocket. She pressed a button on the device she found there and brought it to her ear. "Good afternoon, this is Giselle."

"Hello, Mrs. Philip. This is Cory at Dalton."

"Why hello, Cory." Giselle beamed into the phone. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I have someone here to pick up Morgan, and she's not on our list."

Giselle's smile faded. It was about the time she'd be leaving work to pick up Morgan, who usually had after-school activities for at least half an hour more. "Who is it?" she asked even though she was pretty sure she knew.

"Her name is Elle Ratcliffe. She says she's Morgan's mother."

I'm Morgan's mother. Giselle bit her lip to keep the words from coming out, surprised at herself. She was not in a good mood, and she wasn't used to that. Giselle hesitated, wondering what Robert would say, uncertain whether to trust herself to know what the right thing was at this moment.

After a few seconds, she spoke into the phone. "Is Morgan there?"

"Yes. Do you want to speak to her?"

"Yes, please."

"All right, here she is."

After a moment, a bright voice said, "Hi Mom!"

A warm glow bloomed from Giselle's chest. Morgan had said just the right thing in just the right tone of voice to lift her spirits. "Hello, Morgan. Are you all right?"

"Yeah yeah," Morgan said carelessly. "My mother is here. She wants to take me home."

"So I hear." Giselle paused, uncertain how to phrase this. "Do you want to go with her? It's all right if you don't want to, I can be there in a few minutes."

"It's fine." Morgan's voice sounded unconcerned. "I think she just wants to talk to me."

"And... and are you comfortable talking to her?"

Morgan paused a second. "Well, not really. But I don't mind. She looks like she needs someone to talk to."

Giselle beamed. The girl's capacity for love and compassion was boundless. "All right, tell Cory I give your mother permission to take you home."

"Okay. See you later, Mom."

"I love you."

The connection went dead. Giselle slowly put the phone back in the pocket of her skirt and stared off into the distance for a long while. After about five minutes, she walked quickly to where her coat was hung by the elevator and put it on. She impatiently waited for the elevator to arrive and carry her to the ground, for the first time not finding the experience wonderful.

Giselle burst out into the open air of New York and began striding quickly down the street. She moved through the crowd, aggressively taking advantage of openings in the stream of people, brushing past people who were taking their time. Grimly she filed away the observation that she'd finally become a true New York pedestrian.

It took her surprisingly little time to find them. Elle, dressed much as she had been last night, and Morgan, in her school uniform, walking along the route from Morgan's school towards home.

Giselle slowed, eyeing them. Morgan was chatting away, and Giselle could hear bits and pieces about her school. Elle, for her part, didn't seem to be listening with much enthusiasm. Giselle wasn't exactly certain what she'd been afraid of. She wasn't certain what was gripping her heart so. She wasn't certain what she was doing here. And because of all the uncertainty, Giselle hung back, pacing them, trying to listen in.

Morgan was talking non-stop about some books she was reading regarding a wimpy kid. Elle was making non-committal sounds before she finally interjected with, "Tell me about Giselle."

Morgan shrugged. "She's nice. She sings and makes neat dresses."

"How did your father meet her?"

"He caught her when she fell off a billboard."

"Oh? Was she trying to kill herself?"

"No, she was trying to go back home."

"Where is she from?"

"Andalasia."

"Anda..."

"Andalasia."

"Where is that?"

"Beyond the Meadows of Joy and the Valley of Contentment."

"Ah. So she's delusional and suicidal. But she found in your father someone easy to take advantage of."

"No!" Morgan frowned up at Elle. "She's not whatever those things are, she's a really good person!"

"Many insane people seem nice, Morgan dear. How much of your father's money did she steal in order to start that design studio?"

"She didn't steal it!"

"It had to be hundreds of thousands. I had no idea Robert had saved that much."

"It used to be Nancy's studio."

"Nancy?"

"Dad's girlfriend before he met Mom."

"Oh? So he stole the studio from his former flame and gave it to his current wife. I have to admit, I didn't expect that of Robert."

"No, no, no, she left it to him. When she went to Andalasia."

"Oh? This Nancy went to Andalasia?"

"Yeah. That's where Dad is now."

Elle came to a stop. Morgan continued walking forward a step before stopping and turning to face Elle, the wince clearly on her face. She clearly hadn't meant to let that slip.

Giselle would have winced as well if she hadn't been so panicked at the thought of being seen. She stepped behind a thin tree near the curb, well aware that this was far from ideal cover and embarrassed that she was trying to hide at all. Fortunately, Morgan seemed to be just looking at Elle and paid Giselle no attention.

"So let me get this straight," Elle said slowly. "Your father's current wife is from some delusional place. This Nancy person, after having her studio stolen from under her nose by my husband and given to Giselle, decided the best course of action was to retreat to this fanciful state, and your father went to visit her?"

Morgan frowned. "It's not like you're making it sound."

"My dear, I'm only repeating what you told me. And I think I understand now. Giselle used to be insane, Nancy was driven insane by your father, and out of some latent sense of guilt he went to try and help her. No wonder his current wife wouldn't tell me where he is."

Morgan was clearly frustrated. "You don't understand. You don't even want to understand."

"I do, Morgan. I'm just looking after your best interests, dear."

"Why? You never did before."

Giselle drew in a breath. Morgan was looking up at Elle, a defiant look on her face. Elle's back was to Giselle so she couldn't see her face, but she didn't respond for a minute or two.

In a voice so quiet Giselle could barely make it out, Elle finally replied. "I've always wanted nothing but the best for you, Morgan. That's why I had to leave. I know that's difficult for you to understand, but someday you will."

"No I won't." It was the most petulant Giselle had ever heard Morgan sound. "I'll never understand."

Elle sighed. "Well, in a way, I hope you never do. Now, tell me more about where your father went."

"Why?"

"Because I need him more than this Nancy person does. The longer he stays away the more my current husband wins. And I don't want him to win."

"Winning isn't important. That's what Mom and Dad say."

"Yes, that was your father's problem from the beginning. He never wanted to win. He could have been so much more than he became. He never understood how the world really worked. And it's clear your 'Mom' is equally clueless."

Elle stopped, reached down, and lightly clasped Morgan's chin. "I've been away too long, I see that now. Perhaps this little... misunderstanding with my current husband is a blessing in disguise. You clearly need guidance of a kind neither your father nor his insane wife is capable of."

Morgan looked angry and a little puzzled. She didn't say anything, just looked steadily back at Elle.

After a moment Elle released her chin. "And perhaps it's not too late for your father. He still has potential. With the right kind of guidance, he can achieve remarkable things."

"He already has," Morgan responded with just a touch of defiance. "He says he loves Mom as much as he loves me and that because of that love they made a wonderful place to work together. As long as he has us, he says that's all he'll ever need."

"We'll see." Elle lifted her head. "Now, tell me everything you know about this Andalasia place Giselle claims to be from."

The front door to the apartment building was approaching on the right. Giselle slowed her step and allowed Elle and Morgan to enter the building well before she could reach them. After they'd disappeared from sight, Giselle turned and leaned against the side of the building, feeling tired in a way she'd never felt before.

Elle was unlike anyone she'd ever encountered before, and she was dangerous in a way Giselle didn't fully comprehend. If only Robert was here. But he was in Andalasia, seeking answers from his ex-fiancee, while Giselle was left alone to struggle with situations with which she'd had no experience.

She had thought that Robert would be the one who'd be in the most danger. How naive she had been.

Giselle straightened, put her hand to her chest, and took a deep breath. Then slowly she turned and walked towards the apartment building door. Cliff, the doorman, opened it for her with a smile. She beamed a smile back at him and thanked him for his kindness, then began preparing herself to talk with Elle.

~*~


	9. Chapter 9

Robert continued to gape. It just couldn't be her.

Nancy's grin was still very wide. "Unbind him, now."

One of the guards hesitated. "Your Highness, he's dangerous, are you sure-"

"He's a good friend who I trust implicitly. Unbind him, now."

The guard's voice was reluctant. "Yes, Your Highness."

The ropes were quickly untied. Robert scarcely paid attention, still having trouble accepting what his eyes were telling him about this woman claiming to be Nancy. True, the shape of her face vaguely resembled her New York appearance, but the rest - the flawless skin, the large eyes, the faint lines that outlined her arms and clothes - they made her look... unreal. This couldn't possibly be a woman he knew.

Nancy chuckled. "It's great, isn't it? No wrinkles, none at all. I've seen women ten or twenty years older than me who look almost like teenagers. Of course, when the wrinkles do appear they seem to arrive all at once, and you turn from twenty to seventy overnight. But I can live with that."

It was bizarre to hear Nancy's voice coming from this... drawing of a woman in front of him. Robert tried to speak, seemed unable to form a sound. Finally, he burst out with, "It, it's good to see you, Nancy."

One of the guards cuffed the back of his head. "Your Highness or My Queen, you dolt."

"Enough." Somewhere in the past couple of years Nancy had perfected a regal command voice. "Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Leave us. Now, please."

The guards both bowed and left, one giving Robert a good shove along the way. Robert brought his hands in front of him and rubbed his wrists, still unable to lift his eyes from what Nancy had become. "It's... it's... Nancy, I..." He managed a smile. "Wow."

Nancy chuckled. "I know. Not even as a kid did I imagine that I'd end up wearing a crown." She touched it briefly. "Life sure is funny sometimes, isn't it?"

The words brought a long-buried guilt bubbling to the forefront of Robert's mind. "Nancy... for what we... for what I did to you... I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am."

"Oh, tish-tosh." For the first time Nancy's smile faded away. "Don't worry about it."

"But I do." The words he thought he'd never get to say came tumbling out of him. "You were there for me for so long, helped me get past my divorce, were a good friend to Morgan, and did nothing wrong but love me for five years, and I... I can't explain why it fell apart in the end why... why meeting Giselle made me forget all the good things you did for me for all those years. I've never done anything so terrible to anyone before and you were the last person in the world I wanted to see hurt. I'm, I'm sorry in ways I can't even express."

Nancy sighed. "All right, you wanted to get into this, fine. Things were falling apart before Giselle arrived. Morgan never really warmed up to me and it was becoming more and more difficult for me and you to find time to be together. And yeah, I didn't really appreciate how it ended between us, but that allowed me to meet Edward. And right now I'm happier with him than I ever would have been with you. So I'm glad you were out of the way when he offered to take me to Andalasia." She raised an eyebrow. "Does that help?"

"Yes." Robert drew in a deep breath. "And no."

Nancy chuckled. "Good answer. Still friends?"

Robert smiled back. "Always, I hope."

"Me too." She gestured to a chair as she sat in one herself. "Robert, don't tell me you came to Andalasia just to apologize?"

"Well, that too." Robert lowered himself into a chair, feeling a bit more relaxed. "I had another concern, though. But before we get to that... are you all right here?"

"Of course. Didn't I just mention my eternal bliss?"

"But... I met a nice couple that gave me a place to stay for the night, and they called you the Evil Queen. That didn't seem to bode well. I was expecting Narissa."

"Hmm." Nancy tapped her finger to her lips, a gesture he knew meant she was thinking hard. "That's a different story. Robert, do you know how the Andalasian royalty got funds to build this castle? By killing dragons."

"Oh?" Robert looked around the well-appointed room. "I had no idea they had this much treasure."

"It wasn't just one dragon, it was several. That's how Edward's father died, fighting a dragon. And Edward continued the family tradition by hunting trolls. I made him put a stop to it."

"Weren't the dragons and trolls killing people for that treasure?"

"A great many of them were, yes. That doesn't mean it's right that we kill them for their treasure in return. And what happens when all the trolls and dragons are gone? Think of how small a step it is to go from killing a dragon for its treasure to invading a country for its resources."

"Ouch. Yeah, that's a mentality you wouldn't want in your king."

Nancy nodded. "Exactly. But Andalasia still needs gold just for the basics, like keeping the roads in good order or dealing with garbage that people tend to just toss out the window. And I want to start building schools, because many people don't even know how to read or write. I mean, Giselle taught more animals how to read than most people ever teach other people. And school cost money, too."

"I think I know where this is going." Robert thinned his lips. "Taxes?"

Nancy inclined her head in a fashion she probably didn't realize made her look quite regal. "Taxes. Nothing too large. For farmers, a small portion of the grain they grow. For traders, a gross receipts tax until we have the bureaucracy for a fairer kind of tax. A stamp tax for any official documents. It's not much, certainly far less than anyone in New York would have to pay, and I was able to put an end to serfdom at the same time. But it's been wildly unpopular."

"Oh, I can imagine." Robert shook his head. "So that's why they think you're evil."

Nancy blew out a frustrated breath. "And the worst thing is that they loved Narissa. She was only interested in obtaining power. She didn't care who got hurt along the way and treated her people like slaves. But the people expected that of a queen. She acted the way they knew royalty should act, so they accepted her."

Robert looked into Nancy's troubled face. "And they won't accept you?"

Nancy smiled wanly. "Edward tells me to just give it time, that they'll come to love me just as much as he does. Edward's faith in his people is very simple, and very strong. He calls them peasants and thinks there's nothing wrong with that. But he also believes being a king means absolute service to his people. He considers it his sacred duty to protect them from all harm. Once I convinced him my taxes would be to their ultimate benefit, he fully committed to the idea. And he has this... notion, this idea that if he loves his people, they will love him, too, and that if he does something that's in their best interest, they'll accept his judgment."

"Huh. That sounds awfully na?e of him."

"In New York it would be na?e. In Andalasia he makes it work." Nancy's smile grew stronger, fonder. "It's a kind of magic he has. Some of the leading merchants in the kingdom came to the castle after we announced our taxes, and I half expected them to declare a state of rebellion on the spot. I spoke to them for three hours and got nowhere, then Edward stood up and gave a rousing speech that lasted five minutes, after which they agreed to try it out. And it wasn't rhetoric; he believed everything he was saying, and the merchants knew that, too."

"Now that does sound like magic." Robert chuckled. "So all he needs to do is give the same speech to all the rest of the people."

"Hard to do without mass communication. And rumors spread so quickly. Still, Edward makes me believe that in time it will all work out."

"All you have to do is put up with the guards calling you the Evil Queen for a while."

"Well, that's for a different reason. Some of the guards were quite brutal, throwing people into the dungeons on the slightest pretext, taking everything of value they had and beating them in the process. Narissa was fine with it, but as soon as Edward and I found out about it we put a stop to it and fired the worst offenders. A lot of them blame me for putting a stop to the 'good days' under Narissa."

Robert thought about Horace beaning him and stealing his jacket, and nodded. "I think you did a good thing. What you need is to find a way to explain that, to craft a message that doesn't need Edward having to speak every day to every single person in the kingdom."

"Yeah, well." Nancy shrugged a shoulder. "After running my own business for ten years I've learned a lot about taxes, and being a fashion designer has helped me put on a good appearance, but public relations... that I don't know anything about."

"Then... then we should get you some help." Robert's mind began racing. "Maybe find a way to get you a PR consultant."

Nancy laughed. "I'm not certain you'd find many with medieval specialties. And I can live with being called the Evil Queen as long as I have Edward by my side. Now, enough about my on-the-job training as despot. Why'd you come, Robert?"

Robert bit his lip, strangely reluctant to proceed. "Well... I don't mean to pry, but... have you thought about having children?"

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "How come every time I ask you why you came here, you start asking questions about me?"

"Oh, er, sorry. It's relevant and material, trust me."

"Spoken like a lawyer." Nancy smiled that teasing smile of hers, and even on her new face it strongly reminded Robert of the better times they'd shared together. "All right, I'll allow it for now. And it happens to be another project of mine."

It was Robert's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Getting pregnant?"

Nancy snorted. "Improving health care."

"Oh." Robert tried to think what medieval medicine was like, and grimaced. "So giving birth is a risk?"

"It's always a risk, but here it's an especially large risk. Too many women die giving birth. Edward's mother did, as I believe did Giselle's."

"Oh." Giselle didn't know who her parents were, and her earliest memories had been of living on her own in the forest. "And it's a risk you're not willing to take?"

"Well, I probably will eventually. Even here there's such a thing as a biological clock." Nancy sighed. "But I'm going to do what I can to get a decent clinic built first. Find the best midwives, and the best doctors, such as they are. Really, the level of health care is appalling. Most people don't know anything about germs."

"I see." Robert hesitated. "What about... magic? Can't that help?"

"Well, magic is unreliable and fickle, at least by our standards. But some of the best midwives I've watched seem to use magic to mix poultices and help women heal after giving birth. They don't seem to consider it magic, it's just something they do."

Robert nodded, thinking to Giselle's insistence that her songs weren't magical. Magic was as mundane here as science was in his world. "Okay, I think I understand. But do you think you're capable of giving birth?"

Furrows appeared in Nancy's forehead. "What do you mean?"

"Well... here's the relevancy. Giselle has been trying to get pregnant for over a year now and hasn't. Her gynecologist can't find anything wrong, so we were wondering whether it had something to do with the transformation she went through to get from Andalasia to New York."

"Oh." Nancy frowned. "That I don't know. But... follow me."

She stood up, and Robert quickly rose as well. Nancy moved at her normal fast pace, Robert at her side. It soon became apparent that they were heading for the very door Horace had been leading him towards. "The dungeons?"

"Yes. Narissa's study was there. I've forbidden anyone besides myself and Edward from entering there."

"Why, what does it contain?"

"Things I can't begin to understand. Narissa was the equivalent of a rocket scientist when it came to magic. I've been trying to learn, but I feel like someone from the middle ages trying to fly an airplane."

They arrived at the door. Nancy produced a key from her pocket and they descended. Soon they arrived at a place that looked like a green cave, dripping with water. In one corner was a desk and three full bookcases. One the desk Robert could see a parchment, and looked at it curiously, recognizing Nancy's handiwork. "What is that, a map?"

Nancy was over at one of the bookcases. "It's another project I was working on. It's difficult to get a sense of geography here. In one story a kingdom can be across the ocean, in another it's an hour's walk away. Another country might be bordering yours one day, and be far far away the next. I gave up trying to work it out."

"Why don't you just send some of your guards to find out for sure?"

Nancy sighed. "I'm changing too much already. The fluid geography seems to be part of the magic of this world. If I try to force some order onto it, I might harm the magic. I think things like map-making will have to wait until the people want it themselves. Here."

She pulled out a book and brought it to the desk. Robert moved over to stand by Nancy as she flipped the book open. "What is it?"

"Narissa's journal. There are several passages about Giselle in here."

"There are?" Robert found that very disquieting.

"Yes. She referred to her as 'that forest rat', so it took me a while to figure out she meant Giselle. Evidently she considered Giselle's magical ability as a threat. But as long as Giselle was content to remain in the forest, Narissa let her be. She kept a close eye on her, however."

Robert raised his eyebrows. "Giselle's magic is that strong?"

"Narissa thought so. As Narissa puts it, Giselle had the entire forest enslaved to her will."

"That's not true. Giselle just makes friends easily, even with animals."

"Well, those concepts were beyond Narissa's understanding. People never helped other people of their own free will, they had to be tricked or magicked into doing it. Here." Nancy pointed at a passage. "This is where she plans to send Giselle to New York."

"The wishing well," Robert murmured.

"Yes. It's evidently a powerful magical artifact she built herself. It can take people to any world. I had it capped off to keep people from falling in or things from crawling out."

Robert suddenly remembered the stone ceiling he'd bumped into trying to get to Andalasia. "Things like me?"

Nancy chuckled. "I wasn't expecting you, of course. Anyway, here. This is what she had to say about our world."

I'll send the forest rat to that other place, the one of  
fading magic where destiny cannot be shaped, even  
by me. Bereft of the bonds she formed with those other  
forest creatures, her power will wither and she wander  
lost and alone. No longer will she be a threat to my  
throne. Edward will have to be placated afterwards,  
but I have him well in hand.

Robert mulled that over. "But her power didn't wither. It seems as strong as ever."

"Yes, well, I think that's because she formed new bonds with you and Morgan. I think you kept her magic strong, and Narissa wasn't expecting that." Nancy turned a page. "Now, look here."

That fat fool has failed. I will have to finish her off myself.  
The apple alone won't be enough, I'll have to attack the  
new source of her power, that idiot that took her in. If I  
can inflame her doubt, she will fall. I must hurry.

The journal ended there. Robert frowned. "I asked Giselle once why she bit into the apple. She didn't like talking about it, and only said that Narissa found her despair and made it so strong she wanted to die."

Nancy looked at him closely. "From what I've read, self-confidence is an important factor in magic. Both Giselle and Narissa had plenty of that. Giselle's magic remained strong because of her faith that Edward would come for her, and later, because of you. So if someone as magical as Giselle can't become pregnant, it might be because her faith is fading."

Robert looked at Nancy in shock. "But... she's happy. Really happy."

Nancy's voice was probing. "Are you sure of that, Robert?"

"Yes! I mean, you should hear her sing."

"She likes to perform, I could tell that the first time I met her. What I'm wondering is, how much of her happiness and joy is a performance? Is there any unhappiness that she might be hiding from you?"

Robert's first impulse was to deny that. But then he started thinking. "Giselle didn't want to go to a gynecologist about her problems getting pregnant. I practically had to drag her there. And... and she wasn't keen on having me come to Andalasia. She seemed to think it wasn't necessary."

"She's avoiding dealing with the problem." Nancy tilted her head. "You're the lawyer, Robert. Don't you find that when people avoid the question it's because they already know the answer and don't like it?"

"Oh my goodness." Robert grabbed Nancy's arm. "I'm in completely the wrong place. I need to get back to Giselle as soon as possible."

"Guards!" Nancy's yell was loud enough that Robert let go of her arm and took a startled step backwards.

The dungeon door was flung open and two guards came running. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Nancy spoke in a crisp, commanding voice. "Remove the cap on the well in the garden. Do it as quickly as possible, please. Get as many people as you need to get it done fast. This is important."

"At once, Your Highness." The guards bowed and ran off.

Robert couldn't help smiling. "It's good to be the Queen."

"It has its moments." Nancy grinned back at him. "Let's go. I bet by the time we get up there they'll have it removed."

"All right. Think it will take me back to New York?"

"That's where Narissa had set its focus, and no one's changed it since. I think it should work."

"Good enough for me." He headed towards the stairs, trying to keep from running. A gnawing sense of urgency was growing in him, one he hadn't felt since seeing Giselle unconscious in that ballroom.

Nancy walked at his side, hands clasped in front of her. "Robert, can I tell you something?"

Robert shot her a worried glance. "Of course. Always."

"This is a fairy tale land, but there's still plenty of evil. Remember Snow White? That part where you see a skeleton behind a barred window, reaching for a glass of water?"

Robert frowned. "Yes, I do."

"The fairy tale didn't end well for that person. Giselle believes stories have happy endings. I don't think she fully understands that even in Andalasia that's not always true."

Despite the urgency, Robert slowed his walk, the realization dragging him down. "Our very first fight was about that. She refused to even accept the possibility the Edward might not find her."

Nancy nodded. "You probably found that endearing, didn't you?"

"Well, a bit. But frustrating, too."

"Giselle expects nothing but goodness out of people. That's why she may not be truly prepared for the evil that people can do."

Robert furrowed his brow. "She's learning. What happened with Narissa taught her a lot about being cautious."

"Narissa's evil was overt and obvious. You and I both know there are many forms of evil that are neither."

They had arrived at the well. There were eight or ten men busily hammering away at a stone slab that had been put on top of the well. They had made surprising progress, and Robert could see that he would indeed be ready to leave soon.

Gathering himself, he turned back towards Nancy. "Once I leave you should keep it open. I think you could use the connection to bring in medicine and consultants to help you out."

Nancy looked skeptical. "What consultants could I possibly hire?"

"What about Nathaniel? His profile in New York is getting higher than he's comfortable with, so I think he'd be open to something that would take him out of sight for a while. And he understands Andalasia pretty well. I think he'd jump at the chance to come back for a while and help you out."

"Hmm." Nancy put her finger to her lips. "That's an idea. I'll talk to Edward about it. I really wanted to leave New York behind."

Robert grimaced. "Unpleasant memories?"

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Good ones, too. I threw away my phone and that may have been a mistake. There's good and bad to be had in both Andalasia and New York. Maybe we can find a way for both worlds to help each other."

Robert smiled. "You're a natural at this. You make a wonderful Queen."

"Why, thank you Robert." Nancy smiled widely.

With a loud crack most of the stone slab fell into the well. Robert looked over at it, and back at Nancy. "I should go."

Nancy made a shooing motion with her hands. "Hurry."

Still, Robert hesitated. "I hope this isn't the last time we see each other."

"I as well. You are welcome to visit any time, of course."

"Same to you." There was so much he wanted to say, five years of emotions struggling to be expressed, and in the end all he could think to do was to bow deeply. "My Queen Nancy."

Nancy's laugh was, in its own way, magical. "My Lord Robert." She curtseyed.

He shared one last look with her, then turned away and dove into the well, anxious to find Giselle before anything evil happened to her.

~*~


	10. Chapter 10

Giselle unlocked the door to the apartment and walked in. No sooner had she stepped in than she heard the sound of running feet. A half-second later an eight-year-old bundle of energy plowed into her at full speed. "Hi Mom!"

Laughing, Giselle hugged Morgan. "Hello, dear. How was school?"

"It was okay. Can I go to Geeta's?"

Geeta was a girl a year younger than Morgan who lived three floors down. "Why don't you bring her up here?"

"She has a Wii."

"We what?"

"No! A Wii!"

"Oh, like when you run?" Giselle lifted her arms above her head. "Whee!"

Morgan giggled. "No! Now you're being silly."

Giselle smiled. She had in fact seen the magical device before, and found it utterly baffling and wonderful. Feigning ignorance of the name with Morgan was one of their running jokes. "All right. Two hours, then back for dinner, okay?"

"Okay!" Morgan ran through the apartment door and down the hallway.

Giselle leaned out into the hallway and called after her. "Whee!"

"Whee!" Morgan raised her arms over her head and disappeared around the corner, her laughter echoing in the hallway.

Still smiling, Giselle closed the door and hung up her jacket. For the thousandth time she was thankful to have Morgan in her life.

Giselle turned towards the living room and stopped, her smile fading. Elle stood there, watching Giselle with an expression that chilled her to the bone.

Elle shook her head. "You are such a child. I imagine Robert enjoys ordering you around like he does Morgan."

Giselle swallowed. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Non-dairy creamer if you have it." Elle turned her back on Giselle and walked into the living room.

Slowly Giselle put on a pot and went through the motions of fixing some for herself and Elle. She didn't really enjoy the taste, but Robert always started the morning with a cup and it felt good to share it with him. And the aroma was pleasant, and she enjoyed the warm sensation it created going down her throat, so the bitterness was worth it.

She walked into the living room where Elle was sitting on a chair, looking across the living room through the open window. She took the coffee without comment. Giselle sat on the couch opposite Elle, her mind awhirl. Now that she was alone with Elle, she wasn't entirely certain what to say to her.

Still looking out the window, Elle commented, "Morgan tells me that you're from some magical place called Andalasia."

"Oh, it's not nearly as magical as New York."

"And that's where Robert is now."

Giselle saw no point in denial. "Yes. He went to talk to Edward and Nancy."

"Edward?"

"We were going to be married, but he and Nancy got married instead."

"Well, how perfectly sordid. You all seem to have the morals of rodents."

"It depends on the rodent. My friend Chip is one of the noblest creatures I know."

Elle looked over at Giselle, her expression flat. "You are a little crazy, aren't you?"

"No." Giselle took a sip of her coffee. "I've just lived a different life than you have."

"You don't get to judge my life." Elle looked back out the window. "And you won't tell me why he left on this trip?"

Giselle took another slow sip. Then she steeled herself. "We've been trying to have a baby but can't. Robert thought that perhaps Nancy and Edward could help."

For the first time, emotion played across Elle's face: surprise. "Why would he think they could help?"

"Because Nancy went through a... a transformation similar to mine, and Robert thought that perhaps she knows how to overcome the same difficulties I'm facing."

"That makes no sense at all."

Giselle shrugged and didn't reply.

"You know, that's what always irritated me about Robert," Elle went on. "He's always trying to fix things. He decides what's best and imposes it on you without discussion."

Giselle frowned. "That's not true."

"Of course it is. That's what he wanted of me... he wanted me to be a wife and mother, and never mind what I wanted. He had this funny idea of what marriage and family was like. He had seen so many divorces as a lawyer that he thought he had become an expert on marriage. Stuff about stability and moderation." Elle snorted. "What an idiot."

"He's not." Giselle looked down at her coffee, set it on the end table. "He's very smart. And he's learned how to relax and have fun."

"Like hell," Elle retorted. "He's controlling you even now."

"No!" Giselle nearly spilled her coffee. She frowned down at it, surprised at the strength of her reaction. "No, he's not," she repeated a bit more softly.

Elle shook her head. "You don't even see it, do you?"

Her voice was shaking slightly for some unknown reason. "What makes you think you can see it?"

"Why darling, you told me yourself. Robert went to find Nancy, not you. Robert thinks it's a good idea, and I noticed you never said you thought so. Robert is dictating the course of your life, and all you can do is smile and let him do it."

"You're wrong." Giselle tried to find the words, but the only things that flashed through her head were images. Edward, stating that they would be married in the morning, Giselle's consent a formality. Robert trying to cut off her song in Central Park, to push her along the path rather than let her express herself to him. Narissa, dragging her to the well, then later convincing her to bite the apple. So many people pushing her in so many directions, and Giselle somehow unable to stop them. "You're wrong, you... you don't know me."

"I know everything about you," Elle said contemptuously. "Look at you... singing your way through housework, demurring to Robert on every decision, taking care of Morgan while he goes on adventures. What a weak, weak woman you are."

"That's not true," Giselle spluttered. Edward leading her up the stairs from the ballroom, about to take her away from the love and happiness she'd uncovered in New York, and all she could do was faintly protest that she was fine. "I run Andalasia Fashions, we, we have a show coming up, and, and we do a lot of business, and-"

"And I bet Robert makes all the hard decisions while you just make dresses." Elle smiled slightly. "Isn't that right, darling?"

"No." Giselle found her voice was barely more than a whisper. "No, it's not. He doesn't know a thing about fashion." Robert angry and dismayed that she had made a dress out of the drapes. Giselle shuddered at the memory, tried to move beyond it. "I had to learn the New York fashion world all on my own. And I did. And I was good at it."

"Oh, I bet you were. All it takes is a girl's fancy dress and that smile and those big eyes and they eat out of your hand. Of course, your actual competence isn't a factor at all."

Giselle smoldered, felt a tightness in her jaw she'd never experienced before, realized that it was because she was gritting her teeth. Thinking a painted castle on a billboard was Edward's castle. That had been dumb, of course it hadn't been his castle, how could she think otherwise? So much of this world she didn't know, so much she constantly got wrong.

Elle sniffed and looked away. "Well, that's it then. Robert's found some solace in having a docile, compliant little thing like you. But it's time he moved on. It's a good thing I arrived before you did get pregnant, so there won't be any loose ends. I imagine you won't mind if he tells you it's in your best interest to make way for me."

Giselle felt the world fade away. There was nothing else in the universe except for the space that separated her from Elle. Her hand on Robert's chest, leaning in towards him, Robert turning away and walking out of the room, leaving her alone, causing a deep pain she'd never known before. "How dare you."

"Oh, don't worry, you can keep the studio. And I'm sure you'll find some other man to dominate you soon, you do have such a pretty face." Elle took a sip of her coffee. "Or you can go back to your fairy land and sing with your rat friends and leave real-world problems to competent and sane people."

"HOW DARE YOU!" Giselle shot to her feet and slapped the cup out of a startled Elle's hands. "How dare you say I'm incapable of dealing with problems! How dare you insinuate that I let other people shape the form of my life! How dare you imply that I sing other people's songs and don't sing any of my own! How dare you say that I'm nothing but an empty shell, incapable of real thought or emotion, mimicking other people's feelings but incapable of true love! How dare you say I will never be capable of feeling or thinking deeply enough to be a mother to my own children! How dare you!"

Giselle collapsed back onto the couch and dissolved into tears. Water flooded down her face and she covered her eyes and cheeks with her hands, unable to stop the tears from flowing. She couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but sadness. Desperately she reached for her song, anything to keep her from descending into despair, but it wouldn't come. Morgan wasn't here, Robert wasn't here, and the music was draining out of her and she couldn't stop it and the tears flowed and flowed and Giselle couldn't stop the water from draining from her eyes or the song from draining from her soul and with every passing second she felt herself becoming more and more empty, more and more unreal.

Still sobbing into her hands, Giselle barely heard Elle make an annoyed sound, stand up, and leave the room. It only increased the feeling of emptiness and Giselle continued to wail, her whole chest aching, her eyes burning. She'd never feel better, couldn't even imagine happiness or laughing. Cold misery filled her head and heart.

It barely registered on her senses that someone was walking into the room and sitting on the couch next to her. Someone forcibly grasped one of her hands and thrust something into it. Giselle looked at it, saw that it was a tissue. She blew her nose, surprised at how quickly the tissue was used up. It was taken away from her and a clean one put in its place. This process was repeated no less than ten times as Giselle attempted to staunch the flow of fluid out of her eyes and nose.

And, strangely, the sadness started to lessen. Just the fact that someone was here, with her, helping her, was enough to hold the despair at bay. And more than that, simple curiosity was stronger that her budding despair. She looked up into the eyes of the person sitting next to her.

Elle looked back at her, irritation etching her features. "You owe me a new skirt."

Giselle could only blink in puzzlement, at the same time blowing her nose again. Elle took the tissue, tossed it into a wastebasket she had evidently taken from the kitchen, and handed her another clean one from a box on her lap. Giselle's eyes were drawn to the dark brown stain that covered a great deal of the fabric of Elle's skirt, and she hiccupped in embarrassment. "Oh, oh I'm sorry."

"It was a vicious and childish thing to do. But perhaps it wasn't unwarranted." Elle looked took another tissue from the box and began wiping Giselle's cheeks. "Stop me if I'm wrong, darling, but do you think it's possible that the reason you're not pregnant yet is because you don't want to be?"

Giselle squeezed her eyes as fresh tears began to spill. Frantically she wiped them away with her tissue.

Elle took away her tissue and Giselle's, dropped them in the wastebasket, and offered Giselle another one.

Giselle hiccupped again. "It's, it's so important to him, and I want a child so badly but... I'm afraid, I'm so afraid. This isn't my world, there's so much I don't understand, and I'm not even sure I'm... I'm real enough to understand."

"Well, that's just about the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Elle replied with a fair amount of annoyance. "What makes you think you're not real?"

Giselle looked up at Elle. "I don't... I don't understand people. I thought, I thought Edward was my one true love, and I thought, I thought my song about true love's kiss was my song, but it wasn't, it was his song all along, I didn't have a song. Robert... and Morgan... I can't, I can't make my song big enough for them. They're too complicated, and... and if I can never have a song for them, how can I have a song for my own child?"

"Oh, you are hopeless." Elle looked away, staring out at nothing. "You understand people all too well, even the complicated ones. For instance, you saw when a woman too concerned with appearances to admit she was heartbroken was too proud to ask for help when she needed it. She might have done something terribly stupid if you hadn't understood what she was truly feeling."

Giselle dabbed at her eyes, carefully watching Elle. She was still showing very little emotion, and Giselle wasn't certain how to take her self-denouement. Giselle tentatively reached out, put one of her hands on top of Elle's.

Elle looked down at the hand, then back up to Giselle. "It's difficult to hate you, darling. And believe me, I tried my best. But my daughter adores you, and my husband loves you, and I know from experience that he's very particular about who he lets into their lives."

"I... I never doubted their love. But..." Giselle dabbed her nose again. "After two years living in this wonderful place I still feel inadequate."

"New York is like that. It would help if you were a little less insane. Just get your head out of Neverland and you might actually survive."

"Andalasia," Giselle corrected automatically while her mind whirled around Elle's words. "I don't... don't know what you mean by insane. There are, are things I have trouble comprehending, but Robert helps me with those.

"Oh, well, there's your problem." Elle took one of hands out from underneath Giselle's and gently grasped Giselle's chin. "Welcome to the club."

Having seen Elle do this twice to Morgan, Giselle decided she didn't much like it. "What club?"

"The Wives of Robert Philip." Elle's voice was harsher and sharper now. "He likes to manage us. He considers it his job as a husband to assume control and issue directives to us. You have to stop him from doing that, darling."

"It's..." Giselle frowned, turned her head enough to break Elle's grasp on her chin. "I... the magic of this world, it's so different, I... sometimes, I feel it's better to let Robert decide some things."

"Magic? You're an odd little thing." Elle sighed heavily and tapped the back of Giselle's hand with her finger. "All right, let's strike a bargain. I'll tell you what you need to know about being a woman in Robert's New York. I'll help you learn enough to make decisions on your own, without his help."

"But... but I want Robert's help."

"But you can't always depend on it, can you darling? Sometimes he's not here, and sometimes he's wrong. I'll teach you enough that, if necessary, you can decide things on your own."

Giselle studied Elle, saw a confident, brash woman who even in the midst of what had to be one of the worst crises in her life was taking the time to reach out to help Giselle. And at last she understood why Robert would have married Elle, and where Morgan got some of her capacity for love. "And... and what about you and Robert?"

"Oh, don't pay any attention to what I was saying before. You just reminded me why I divorced him in the first place. But he is going to help me with my current husband." Elle's eyes flashed. "Robert is going to work very hard for me and get half of everything that pig owns. At least half. And Robert won't charge me a cent. He owes it to me."

Giselle tried a wan smile. "That seems like a fair bargain."

"Oh, that's not the bargain." Elle lifted her chin. "I said that's what he owes me. You, on the other hand, will still need to pay for my lessons."

"Oh." Giselle couldn't help a small sense of disquiet. "Then how can I repay you?"

Elle looked away, spoke in a quieter tone of voice. "I want... I mean, if you would please, teach me how to make my daughter laugh."

A sudden warmth filled Giselle's chest. "Oh, that's easy. I'll be glad to show you."

"Then it's settled." Elle rose to her feet. "Now, get me out of this skirt. Do you have anything that doesn't look like a Donna Reed reject?"

Giselle eyed her critically. Elle was a few inches shorter and her body contoured differently. "I... I don't think I have anything that's quite right."

"Darling, it doesn't have to be right. At this point it just has to be functional."

"Well, there's no reason we can't get you both." Giselle got to her feet, and already felt her song surging forth again, not vocalized but still a part of her mind and body, filling her with inspiration. She walked over to one of the curtains and began taking it down. "I can make something for you very quickly. It's what I'm best at."

* * *

Robert stepped into the elevator, more impatient than usual. The trip back through the well had been much like the first trip, except this time he'd found himself pressed up against a manhole cover. He'd forced his way into Times Square with only a mild amount of difficulty and honking. After Andalasia's bright colors and uniformity, Robert had found himself taking longer than expected to adjust back to New York's grittiness. At least he didn't have an outline anymore.

The doors slid open and Robert sprang out and into the hallway. He wasn't certain why he felt so anxious, but he needed to see Giselle as soon as possible.

It wasn't until he got to the apartment door that he realized that his keys had been in the pocket of his jacket, still back in Andalasia. Shaking his head in annoyance, he knocked on the door.

A minute later it was opened. "Hah. There you are. It's about time you got here, you know I don't like to be kept waiting."

Robert's jaw fell open, his brain not wanting to believe what his eyes were telling him. "Elle?"

"Daddy!" Morgan shot past Elle and hugged Robert fiercely. "You're back!"

"Hi Morgan." Robert looked down, smiled, and hugged her back. Then almost despite himself, his eyes were drawn back up. "What are you doing here?"

"We were playing!" Morgan bounced up and down, releasing her hug from Robert and grabbing Elle's hand. "Mother has two hotels already."

Robert just stared blankly. This couldn't be happening. He must have gone back to a different New York, one where he'd never divorced Elle. Despair began filling him as he looked back at Elle's impassive expression.

"Robert, hello!"

Robert's gaze whipped away from Elle's to the approaching figure of a red-haired woman, and he sagged slightly in relief. "Giselle!" He stepped into the apartment and hugged her. "Oh, I've missed you."

"Me too. Did you have a good trip?" Giselle broke the hug, grinning at him. "Did you see Nancy and Edward?"

"Let's... let's talk later." He didn't want to bring up Anadalsia in front of Elle. She had closed the door and was leaning against it, watching him and Giselle more closely than he felt comfortable with.

At his look Elle raised an eyebrow. "Robert, you need to get to work. My pig of a husband served me with divorce papers, and I need you to answer them immediately. He's cut off my access to the bank accounts, so your first step will be to restore that."

"Oh." Elle getting a second divorce didn't surprise him, but her seeking him out for help did. "Do you have any money on you?"

"Not a cent." Elle released her grip on Morgan's hand and took a step forward. "Hence the urgency. Can you start writing something up here or do you need to go into the office?"

"Wait, slow down." Too much was going on at once, and he needed to prioritize. "Listen, we can't do anything until the morning anyway. Why don't I put you up at a hotel, and we can make an appointment for tomorrow morning to look at the papers and formulate a plan."

Giselle stirred from where she'd been standing quietly. "Elle will be staying here with us."

Robert blinked at her. "She will?"

"Yes. For as long as it takes."

That could be weeks, even months. Robert slowed his breathing, forcing himself into calm, steady thinking. Giselle didn't know Elle, didn't understand the kind of poisonous influence she could exert. He turned back towards Elle. "Listen, maybe you can stay tonight, but we don't have a bedroom for you. You'll be a lot more comfortable in a hotel, and-"

"Robert." Giselle's voice was quiet, gentle, and surprisingly firm. "Elle will be staying here with us. For as long as it takes."

"Darling, I'll be fine on the couch." Elle's voice contained a hint of satisfaction, the source of which eluded him. "Just consider it motivation. The sooner you get my pig of a husband to agree to our demands, the sooner you'll be rid of me."

"Not too soon!" Morgan skipped into their midst, grabbing Giselle's and Elle's hands. "I like having two Moms."

Giselle laughed and, to Robert's complete shock, Elle smiled warmly as well.

Robert tried to process it all. In the short time he'd been away, something fundamental had changed in his life. He wasn't certain what it was, or if it was a good change or not. All he knew was that things were going to be a lot more complicated.

"So, Robert," Elle said casually. "How did your meeting go with your old girlfriend?"

"Uh... fine." Robert eyed her, unsure of her motivations. "She helped me find a possible cause to a problem I was facing."

"Oh, that." Elle sniffed. "Giselle and I figured that one out on our own."

"Er, you did?"

"Yes," Giselle said with a smile. "I don't think there will be any more problems. We should try again." She cupped his cheek with one hand. "Soon."

Robert gulped, then ruefully shook his head. "So my trip to... to see Nancy accomplished absolutely nothing?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Elle replied. "I know from experience that sometimes a woman needs to be separated from you in order to gain some proper perspective."

"Now Elle, that's not nice." Giselle took her palm from Robert's cheek and clasped his hand. "Robert, you wanted to help me. That's why I fell in love with you in the first place. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Robert chuckled. "When does it get to be my turn to ride to the rescue?"

"You can be my white knight." Elle started leading Morgan back into the living room. "Remember, not one penny less than half."

Robert frowned. "Did your skirt used to be our curtains?"

"Don't concern yourself with such petty details," Elle replied chidingly. "At least half."

Morgan giggled as they disappeared into the living room. Robert shook his head again in amazement. Elle's reaction to Morgan's birth had been so negative. She'd put up no fight when Robert had gone after full custody in the divorce. To see her like this... he didn't know what to make of it.

He looked at Giselle and grinned. "You're amazing. I didn't think anyone could connect with Elle as easily as you have."

"No, you're wrong. She was the one who connected with me. We're learning a lot from each other."

"Not too much, I hope," he couldn't help but saying.

"Oh Robert, trust my judgment." Giselle leaned in, her face an inch from his. "I know what I'm doing."

"I... I know you do," he replied somewhat huskily.

They kissed, a slow and soft kiss, a promise of things to come.

"If you two are quite through we have a game to finish here," Elle's voice called from the living room. "You owe me nine hundred dollars for Virginia Avenue, Giselle."

They broke the kiss, and Giselle looked up at him, her eyes dancing with a vision of the future, one that began with Elle somehow coming back into Morgan's life and continued with babies for Morgan to play with. The clarity of the vision took his breath away.

Giselle's smile was strangely knowing, as if she could see what he was seeing and was acknowledging it as correct. Robert found himself almost afraid to ask how true that was. Something had changed in her; she had broken through some barrier Robert hadn't even been aware of.

Before he'd gone to Andalasia, Giselle had been capable of tremendous things. Robert wondered what she'd be able to accomplish now. It would be a joy to find out.

Grinning, Robert allowed Giselle to pull him into the living room and the beginning of yet another story.

* * *

THE END

(Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I went through a dozen drafts and I was never entirely satisfied with the outcome. If you have any comments or criticism, please do let me know, I'm always open to suggestions.)


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